Skip to main content

Full text of "The Methodist quarterly review"

See other formats





I II II III iir'iiifi^.ir'i*-"^'^''"'^ PUBLIC 

3 1833 01735 9446 




18 6 3. • 



N £ to 13 r k : 



18 6 3. 



Eev. Daniel Cuert, New York- 

From the French of Charles Maetins. 
Aeticle.] ■ ■ *4' * 

Professor Tatlkp. Lewis, Union College, SchenecUdj, N. Y. 


i^TEl'HEN CUIICELLJ^US. [First Part.] 92 

From the Latin of Prof: Absold PoLEXBirKQ. 
THE IlEAKING £AR : •- ^^^ 

J. Hknev Clark, M.D., Newark, N. J. 

Rev. P. D., D.D., New York. 
FonKios Eeligiocs Intelligence ^ " 



* 163 


(JfAKTERLT Book-Table 

The 1)E^^AL of Finai, Cacses— Editoeiai, 

Items— Episcopal Visitation for 1863— Correction. 





IIenrt M., E.«q., Baltimore, llil 

P^v. J. Dempster, D.D., Evanston, 111. 

Professor Henet M. Baird, University of the City of New Tort 
ROWLAND HILL '. ••••" ^50 

P.'v. James M. Fekeman, Haverstraw, N. Y. 

lUv. Daniel Steklk, Professor in the Genesee College. — ■-• . 

.»A««is Stkosg.S.T.D., Flushing, Long Island, N. Y. 
STEPHEN CURCELL J.US. [Second Part.] ....'. 811 

Fr^m the Latla tf Prot Arnold Poleneueg. 

FoREiox REMGiors Itttelligknoe 829 

Foreign Litkraey Intkllioence 834 

SvNorais or the Qu abtkrlies 840 

Quarterly Book-Table 845 




ftcT. D. A. ■WffKDOK, A.M., Auburn, N. T. 
AaTirit] 382 

Profpssor Taylek Lewis, Union College, Schenectady, N. Y. 


S. G. Aekoli), Esq., Washington, D. C. 

Key, OrLBKRT Haven, Boston, Mass. 

Kev. W. P. Steickland, D.D., Chaplain in the U. S. Army. 

[I'msT Akticle] 455 

Ecv. "William F. "Waebex, D.D., Bremen, Germany. 

Rev. D. D. "Wuedon, D.D., New York. 
FoKEiox Religious I^■TELLIOENCE 494 


S Y.V0P8IS OE TUE Quarterlies 604 




Eev. Fales H. Newhaj.l, Boston, Mass. 

Key. G. M. Steele, Boston, Mass. 
[Secoxu Article.] 579 

Eev. W. F. Wabben, Bremen, Germany. 

P.CT. F.NOCu Pond, D.D., Bangor, Maine. 

From the Latin of SxEPHEy Cuucklz-jeus. 

Eev. Chaeles Elliott, D.D.. LL.D., SL Lonis, Mo. 

TiEQiNiA C. PniEBcs, Snow Hill, Md. 

Ue^BY M. HAEMoy, Baltimore, Md. 
Fnnr.tox Religious IrrrELHOENCE 659 


8ts..i,.i, or THE Qlarteblies 676 




JAKUAEY, 1863. 


The Life of Edicard Irving, Miuister of the Xatioual Scotcli 
Church, London. IHustratcd by his Journals and Correspond- 
ence. By Mrs. OLn'UA>'T. Svo., pp. 027. New York: Har- 
per Sc Brothers. 1862. 

In tlxc volume whose title is given above the public have the 
first satisfactory biography of the great London preacher, and 
promoter of a strange fanaticism, whose name was thirty years 
ago in everybody's mouth, and whose career, so strange, gro- 
tesfpie, solemn, and finally so sad, was the theme of the sneers 
of the thoughtless and of the wonder of the thoughtful. This 
book therefore meets and fills a confessed want. The author. 
Mrs. Oliphant, is favorably known in the lighter departments 
of literature, and here she brings the facility of writing before 
iu-(iuircd to her more serious task, together with great faith in 
Ikt ^ubject, and the biographers requisite amount of hero wor- 
bliip. Unluckily she has made the not unfrequent mistake of 
En].p..siiig that the biographer's office is that of the advocate 
rather than the judge, and so a kind of partisan aspect is given 
to her statements which detracts from their authority. But 
these are venial faults, and they would be quite satisfactorily 
atoned for by the cleverness of the work, if the worthiness of 
the subject were not a sufiicient justification of all her vindi- 
FouKTH Series, Vol. XV. — 1 x 

6 Edv:ard Irving. [January, 

Edward Irving vras the son of a substantial tradesman of 
Annan, in Diimfriessliire, Scotland ; born August 4, (another 
account says 15,) 1792. With an ambitious forethought, not 
unusual among his countrymen, his father determined to pre- 
pare his sons for more advanced social positions than that in 
which they were born. Edward M-as therefore educated for the 
ministry, and his two brothers, one older and one younger than 
himself, were prepared for the medical profession. Of tlie 
home life of the Irvings of Annan, Avhere three brothers and 
five sisters gathered about the " cantie ingleside " of the thrifty 
tradesman and staunch Presbyterian, we have only the usual 
pictures of Scottish domestic life. The years of their child- 
Jiood were those of Em-ope's convulsions, of which France was 
at once the source and center ; but it may be doubted whether 
these things were felt in any considerable degree within the 
quiet household of the Annandale tanner. Traditional tales 
of border raids, and of Covenanters', sufferings and constancy, 
with the lessons of the Shorter Catechism, and the stately though 
simple exercises of the Kirk, seem to have been the agencies, 
additional to direct parental instructions, that fashioned the 
forming character of one wlio became at length a chief celeb- 
rity of his age. 

During the years of his age from thirteen to seventeen, 
ending in 1805, young Irving passed through the prescribed 
undergraduate studies at Edinljurgh University. Less than a 
year after his graduation he was appointed Master of the Math- 
ematical Academy at Haddington, wliicli position he exchanged 
two years later for a similar but more eligible one at Kirk- 
caldy. He was then about twenty years old, and had attained 
to an altitude of full six feet, (his full-grown height was six 
feet four,) with a fine, open Scotch countenance, marred only 
by an ugly squinting of one eye, and generally a dignified 
though somewhat ungainly bearing. He was even then, and 
much more in after life, a figure to be looked after by strangers 
without contempt. x\bout tlie same time that he assumed the 
duties of a teacher he was also .entered as a student of theology 
at Edinburgh, agreeable to the arrangements of that institution 
by which divinity students are permitted to pursue their studies 
in private, subject to the requisite examinations and public 
exercises. After four years had been passed in this relation he 

1863.] Edward Ii-ving. 7 

was turned over by the university to tlie presbytery, to undergo 
a briefer but more searcliing "probation" before he could be 
admitted to the anteroom of the ministry by a license to 
preach. Six months later he received the required license ; but 
lie was not then ordained, as the Presbyterian Church ordains 
no shepherd except for a flock. This occurred in 1S15, ^vlicn 
Irving was about twenty-three years old. 

lie had now attained the ambiguous position of a licensed 
preacher and candidate — a layman iu fact, though often recog- 
nized as a clergyman by courtesy — and he only waited the 
opportunity to escape from his present occupation to that for 
which he had been formally designated. In this awkward 
interim he occasionally " exercised his gift " in the pulpits of his 
vicinity, now at his native Annan, when the " haill town '' 
turned out to liear him, and the congregation was taken captive 
Ifcause wlien by his excessive gesticulations he knocked the 
unlucky "'paper'' from the Bible he proceeded ■w'ithno apparent 
embarrassment without it ; and again at Kirkcaldy, where his 
neighbors heard him respectfully, and found no other occasion 
for censure than that in his manner there was " ower unicli 
gran'ncr." Three uneventful years were thus passed, during 
which eaoli Sabbath found him a silently attentive listener to, 
but also uncomfortably critical hearer of, the ministrations of 
Dr. Martin, tlie parish minister. He saw that while his own 
occasional " exercises " were tolerated rather than relished by 
the i^eoplc, tlie sermons of their o^vn minister were received 
with evident and unflagging interest, and he very naturally 
ft'ked himself whether the decision was a just one, and also 
f'lt a consciousness of a power within himself to go beyond the 
unambitious cftbrts of the approved preacher. But no one may 
r^i'iH-i! iVum the public verdict who is not himself independent 
"t tlio ]>ublic favor, and Irving was both too good to envy his 
iTotla-r's good fortune, and too wise to seem to be dissatisfied at 
the l:;«-k of appreciation of himself. Of the spiritual qualitica- 
tioiis of our candidate for liis expected ministry no account is 
given us. lie had been designated fur that calling by his par- 
ents, ap}>arently without much regard to his religious fitness or 
reference to a divine call, and their determination had been 
acquiesced in by himself in much the same spirit. Though 
always of unblamable manners, except a slight tendency to 

8 • Edward lining. [January, 

piignacitj, lie had hitherto given no marked indications of any 
special religions experience ; and thongh the Church of Scotland 
carefully insists upon a consciously recognized " conversion " as 
the first step in a religious life, no such crisis is recognized in 
his history. Of his later religious life happily there can he no 
douht, but its inception and early growth are not recorded. 

Kine years of successful teaching at length produced \veari- 
ness .of the nndesu-ed occupation,- and though no " call " allured 
him to his longed-for position, yet he resigned his chair, and 
was -for the first time in all his life a free man. For lack of 
other occupation he next removed to Edinburgh, and recom- 
menced student life at the university, reading theology, science, 
and general literature, with Bacon, Hooker, and Jeremy Tay- 
lor for his teachers and models of style and thought. But his 
heart was not in his studies. lie longed to be engaged as a 
Christian teacher, and in his enforced inaction he now medi- 
tated a mission to interior Asia, as grand and romantic as cer- 
tainly it was impracticable.. The dreams of this season were 
destined however to produce their results, as will appear in the 

It was while thus waiting upon disappointments that he was 
induced to preach in the hearing of Y)v. Chalmers, who was 
then desiring to procure an assistant in the great parish of St. 
John's, Glasgow. The sermon, notwithstanding the unfavorable 
circumstances of the preacher, was }>ronounced by a competent 
critic a " production of no ordinary mind ;" but Chalmers said 
nothing, and returned home. Irving's patience now quite failed 
him. He therefore forwarded his easily moveable effects to 
Annan, and himself took ship to IblloM- them; -but by taking 
the wrong boat he was taken to Belfast, and so treated to an 
involuntary excursion, which ^va? marked with a due mixture 
of Scotch and Irish adventures. Upon his return to Annan he 
found a letter from Chalmei-s inviting him to Glasgow, whither 
he accordingly went, and was there offered and accepted the 
place of assistant minister of St. John's. "I will preach to 
them if you think fit," he is reported to have said, " but if they 
bear with my preaching they will be the first people who have 
borne ^vith it." And so began in earnest the great life-work 
for which he had been so long ja-eparing, and which he had antic- 
ipated with most painful longings. A parish of ten thousand 

1863.] Edward Irving. ^ 9 

souls, mostly the families of poor artisans and laborers, com- 
posed the pastorate of St. John's, Glasgow, and into its varied 
duties Irving at once entered %vith all his energies. The people 
" bore with his preaching," either for its own sake or out of 
deference to him who had called him to his office-work, though 
there were some complaints as to the florid character of his 
preaching. His gigantic form was an object of wonder, per- 
Jiaps sometimes of terror; but he soon found a way to the 
hearts and the confidence of the people. The impressions of 
wonder and reverence produced by his fii-st appearance were 
heightened by his stately manner and solemn addi'ess. Whenever 
he entered a house he saluted its inmates with the apostolic 
formula, " Peace be in this house." He would give to all tlie 
children a hearty but rather awful benediction with a solemn 
und earnc.-t imj)Osition of hands. It was enough to condemn 
his preaching that it was quite unlike that of his chief; yet 
fIiico that great man" always spoke kindly of his assistant and 
rnmineudcd his performances, none might pronounce against 
iliem, though his appearance in the pulpit was sometimes the 
i^ignal for the hasty exit of a portion of the congregation. Three 
years of service with the greatest of modern teachers and prac- 
titioners of the art ministerial doubtless did much to prepare 
this modem Boanerges for his subsequent work. "While associ- 
ated with Chalmers, Irving must necessarily have occupied a 
subordinate place, not specially because he was inferior, but 
because of the essential character of the two individuals. A 
change of position therefore had become desirable, and the 
oi-portunity to realize it was at length given. 

Tliere was then in London, in Cross-street, Hatton Garden, 
fi Cluirch and congregation, connected with the Ivirk of Scot- 
l:ind, called the "Caledonian Church," of about fifty members, 
and without a minister. To that unpromising affair, after due 
inquiries made and satisfactory assurances received by its offi- 
ciary, Irving was invited, and the invitation was accepted almost 
without conditions. The bond for his " livelihood " demanded 
by the Pri-sbytery from the Church, which Irving would have 
waived, was at length and not without difiiculty procm-ed, and 
then the late assi>tant minister of St. John's, Glasgow, bearing 
with him the blessings of those he left, departed for the field 
of his later triumphs and sufierings. 

10 Edward Irving. [January, 

On the second of July, 1822, Irving began his Labors with 
his little Churcli at Uatton Garden, -with its fifty hearers, to 
which was occasionally added some vagrant Scotchman sojourn- 
ing in the metropolis. A letter of introduction brought by Irving 
secm-ed the presence of Sir David AYilkie, who came again, 
bringing with him a fellow-artist to see and ad^yiirc the head 
of the lyreacher. In the course of the year Chalmers visited 
London, and preached in the almost unknown and out-of-the- 
way Caledonian Church, and ^rrote home half-patronizingly 
and half-prophetically concerning his former " helper," " He 
has impressed most favorably such men as Zachary Macaulay 
[father of Lord Macaulay] and Mr, [iUlan] Cunningham with 
the conception of his talents," But he then adds significantly, 
the expression of a hope which implies rather a fear, that " he 
will not hurt his usefulness by any Mnd of cccentrieity or 

Whether Irving's great popularity into which he at length 
rose all at once was accidental, or the outworking of causes 
which compelled their own results, it would be difficult to posi- 
tively answer. Eight yeai^s of preacher-life, half of them before 
a congregation not unused to able preaching, had tailed to im- 
press his hearers with any exalted notion of his abilities. Some 
persons will think that he was only one of a large class of pos- 
sible celebrities whom a concurrence of favoring accidents 
rescued from the oblivion in which he had so long continued, 
and from which most of his class never emerge. The notion 
that there are flowers " born to blush unseen " may be as 
true as it is certainly poetical ; but how shall we know it \ 
"When success is achieved it is not often ascribed by either the 
subject or liis admirers to happy accidents, though another 
class of persons may do so. A year of diligent labors, but of 
only moderate prosperity till the last quarter, followed Irving's 
settlement at tlie Caledonian Church, and then the sun of his pros- 
perity rose upon him. The occasion of the new order of things 
is said to have been a speech made by Canning in Parliament. 
Sir James Mackintosh had been led, by some unexplained acci- 
dent, to hear Irving preach, and was especially impressed with 
an idea expressed by him in prayer, in which he prayed for an 
orphaned family as now "thrown upon the fatherhood of 
God." Mackintosh told it to Canning, wlio sought out and 

1863.1 Edward Irving. 11 


heard the preacher himself; and soon afterward, in a debate 
the Commons respecting Church revenues, in which the relations 
of high talent and good pay were insisted on, Cannmg informed 
the house that " he himself had lately heard a Scotch minister, 
trained in one of the most poorly endowed c>f Churches, and 
cstabhshed in one of her outlying dependencies, possessed of no 
endowment at all, preach the most eloquent sermon he had ever 
listened to." That was sufficient ; the Caledunian Church at 
once became a fashionable center, and the notoriety of the 
liitlierto unkno^^5n preacher was secured. Though neither Irving 
nor his people had schemed for such a result, yet he was not at 
all dissatished with the new direction of affaii-s. He was at 
once too honest and too proud to solicit public favor except by 
deserving it ; he was nevertheless highly susceptible to its influ- 
ence, and lie almost morbidly craved a just appreciation. 

Tlie new position of afiairs brought with it a full share of 
lalHiirs and perils, of neither of which was Irving much afraid. 
Wliile crowds of distinguished listeners flooded the Httle chapel { 
each Sabbath, and the newspapers were actively discussing this j 
latest M'onder, the preacher rose higher and higher in both 
tliought and utterance, and with a zeal that spared no efforts 
applied his Herculean energies to his ever-growing duties. In 
the midst of those labors and successes he ventured a step fur- 
tlier, and appeared before the public in the character of an 
author — ahvays a perilous enterprise for a popular preacher, 
binec the new character requires other qualifications, and failure 
is doubly disastrous. A volume made up in part of his pulpit 
exercises, which he called, not sermons, but '• Orations," and 
in part of a longer and more elaborate essay, called an "Argu- 
inent for the Judgment to Come," constituted his first venture 
m authorship. Ko doubt a large share of Irving's notoriety 
ar...-o from his peculiarities of both thought and manner, and 
he ujis not careful to propitiate those who dilfered with him in 
tho-o i>articulurs. Pointing to the evident lack of success 
of the ordinary instructions of the pulpit in the Introduc- 
tion to his book, he charged it all to the defective man- 
ner of preaching in general use. This seemed to be saying 
indirectly to those preaching to sparsely-seated houses, '' Do- 
as I do and your houses will be thronged as mine is." Dig- 
nified mediocrity of course smiled coldlv at such self-corn- 

12 . Edward Irving. [Januaiy, 

placeDcy, and learned authority laughed pityingly at the over- 
weening assurance. But the book shared the favor of the author 
and his little Ilatton Garden Chapel. Everybody must read 
it, till it became the talk of the town, and was criticised by 
each according to his position and temper. Its vulnerable 
points were neither few nor diliicult to find ; but there was in 
this, as in all its author's productions, many and great excellen- 
cies. It was also during this his second year in London that 
Irs'ing was married to the daughter of Dr. ]\Iartin, the n inister 
of Kirkcaldy, after a courtship more protracted than that of 
Jacob and Rachel. The marriage was an eminently hap})y one 
for the husband, who gained a wife that seemed to merge her 
own interests, opinions, and preferences in her husband's. 

Among the taxes paid by modern pulpit celebrities is the 
preaching of anniversary sermons. Accordingly, witli tlie s}>ring 
of 182^ came an invitation to preach before the London Mis- 
sionary Society. The thought of the missionary enterprise 
revived in his mind his dreams of apostolic missions, and these 
sublime fancies were wi'oiight into his discourse. For three 
mortal hours the vast assembly was held entranced by his gor- 
geous oratory while he depicted, not the work of that or any 
other body, but a grand ideal of a mission scheme after the model 
of apostolic times. During all this time the managers sat in 
painful solicitude, first for their usual collections, and ultimately 
for the damage that such a discourse must entail upon the cause 
in which they were engaged. But nobody could suspect the 
preacher of a design to harm the cause he M'as called to advo- 
cate. To his mind the missionary work was not the same thing 
with that contemplated by the society, and as he spoke from 
his own inflamed fancy and full heart his utterances were for- 
eign to the subject as they viewed it. But the discourse was 
more than a blunder ; it was a burning protest, though unde- 
Bigned, against the s}>irit of cowardly prudence in which the 
work of missions was, an<l, alas ! that it must be said, still is 
pvosecuted. It unluckily struck precisely upon those points 
which annual reports and })latform orators are usually careful 
to leave untouched, and by liolding up the bright ideal it con- 
demned the actual. If in the controversy that followed the 
preacher had tlie doubtful advantage of the sympathy of the 
outside world, (those who have no real sympathy with the object 

1863.] Edward Iroin^. ' 13 

of Diissions, and therefore care nothing about their methods.) 
that gain -^as purcliascd at tlio cx|)cnse of tlie confidence and 
sympathy of the best and most active Christians of the country. 
From this point began his estrangement from the great body of 
cotcmporary evangelical Christians, -^vhich continued to the end 
of his life. This led him to find out other associates, and at tlie 
liuusc of his friend Basil Montague he met ^vith a circle of per- 
sons distinguished for learning and independent, pcrliaps erratic 
tliinking, witli Coleridge as oracle and intellectual dictator. 
Irving Avas dazzled by a light so new and unwonted, and was 
led away by the fascination of the discussions to which he was 
lor the most part only a listener. Lordly and aristocratic as he 
often seemed in the pulpit, and in his ^v^itings, he was readily 
Icil aw.ay by almost any positive wiU with which he might 
como into friendly contact, and with characteristic ingenuous- 
iK'K< he would confess his indebtedness to those by whom he had 
been enthralled. But between himself and Coleridge there 
wn.s too great a dissimilarity of mental constitution to- allow 
fitlicr a close contact, or the exercise of a determinate influence 
by the one over the other. 

The birth of a son, and his death a little more than a year 
afterward— born July 22, 1S24, and died October 11, 1S25— 
seemed to open up new and strange depths in the spiritual being 
of tlie father. Soon after his birth, while the mother and child 
were at Kirkcaldy and Irving in London, an almost daily epis- 
tolary correspondence was kept up. Irving's portion of these 
k'tters, which were carefully preserved by the appreciating 
rivij.icnt and are now fij-st published, seem to disclose the v>rit- 
cr'ji whole soul in all its tenderness, purity, and lofty elevation. 
Ill* boy seems to have awakened him to a new life, with 
i-nlarged and more precious affinities ; and as lie saw everything in 
IJje [jf'Unour of an excited imagination, his deep heart yearnings 
Urnino to him convictions and grounds of theological dogma. 
JJut all these were vastly intensified Mlien that child was 
removed by death. The sorrows of bereavement, which at first 
eatiie in uj-on him like a flood, were presently changed by the 
I»ower of f:iith into rapturous exultation. " lie took my son to 
his own fatherly bosom," ho subsequently wrote respecting 
these things, '' and revealed in my bosom the sure expectation 
and faith of his own eternal Son. Dear season of my life 

14 Edward Irving. [January, 

ever to be remembered, when I knew the s^veetness and fruit- 
fulness of such joy and sorrow !" 

The baptism of the child became the occasion of a new 
direction of the father's ideas respecting the significance of 
that ordinance and of the relations of baptized children to 
the Gospel Church. The Church of Scotland had not at the 
Reformation followed the lead of the Eeformed Churches of the 
Continent in reducing the sacraments to mere signs of Chris- 
tian profession and memorials of certain facts and doctrines, but 
in her earlier standards ghe declared, "AVc assuredly believe 
that by baptism we are ingrafted into Christ." The Westmin- 
ster Confession, for two hundred years the common standard of 
all Presbyterian Churches, is scarcely more than baldly Zwing- 
lian. Thousands in both the relations of parents and of min- 
isters have been painfully conscious of the nakedness and 
poverty of its doctrine of the nature of the sacraments, and to 
living's impulsive spirit it became intolerable when as a Christian 
father he brought his first-born to receive the seal of the Chris- 
tian covenant. His loving heart clung fast to the idea that the 
outward sign was really responded to by the inward grace, and 
though he did not formally consent to tlie Eomish and Anglican 
notion of baptismal regeneration, his dissent was evidently 
scarcely more than verbal. 

As early as 1S25 Irving's attention had been directed to the 
study of the prophecies, a subject Nvell calculated to awaken 
and command his liveliest feelings. Into tliat study the best bal- 
anced minds have need to enter with only cautious steps and to 
proceed with the most careful circums^icction ; to a mind at all 
predisposed to eccentricities of thought it is almost sure to prove 
a maddening maze. That, loft to himself, he would have gone 
no further than to accept a few liarmloss vagaries of thought is 
probable ; but with his facility for being led away by infinitely 
inferior minds, and the fact that such leaders are seldom want- 
ing, rendered it antecedently probable that he would be made 
the victim of the wildest fancies. The French Eevolution had 
only a few years before very deeply aftected the public mind, 
and many highly intelligent per?ons had come to believe that 
its astounding events had formed the themes of the prophetic 
utterances. Xcarly every great social and civil commotion 
for the last thousand years lias received the same distinction 

1863.] Edward Irving. 15 

from those of the age of each, as probably others will continue 
to do ; and with a remarkable uniformity nearly every genera- 
tion of interpreters have placed the second coming of Christ in 
the midst of, or soon after " the tribulation of those days." An 
event wholly incidental to the study of propliccy brought In-ing 
more fully into its excitements. Early in that year, notwith- 
Ptandinghis imfortunate experience with the London Missionary 
Society, he received and accepted an invitation to preach the 
anniversary sermon for the Continental Society, whose interests 
liis friend, Mr. Henry Drummond, of Albury Park, was pro- 
moting with characteristic zeal. That society had for its object 
the evangelization of the countries of Continental Europe, and 
in contemplating that subject thepreacher quite naturally came 
t.i c«.)n:.ider it in the light, or rather shadows, of the Apocalypse. 
A 'y\v. Ilatley Frere, an earnest and one-sided student of the 
pri'phecies, had some years before propounded a new theory of 
inttTj^rctution — as nearly every student of prophecy does — to 
wliicli and its author the public had^ paid very little attention. 
!^^lJst opportunely, or inopportunely as the case may be, this 
man now fell in with Irving, who accepted his notions with 
eagerness, and at once became an Aaron to that stammering 
ifoses. " Ilenceforth," says the admiring biographer, " the 
gorgeous and cloudy vista of the Apocal}^33e became a legible 
cliart of the futm-e to his fervent eyes." [Spare the figure.] 
L uder such influences he prepared his sermon for the Conti-' 
nental Society, which, like its predecessor, failed of its intended 
purpose, and became the occasion of fresh contentions and 
'•rim i tuitions. During the ensuing year that discourse was 
enlarged and rearranged as a book, ^\itli the title, ''Babylon and 
luJidclity Foredoomed," which the author dedicated "Tomy 
Ul'ned friend and brother in Christ, Ilatley Frere, Esq," in 
whi.-li dedication he confessed himself the humble disciple of 
Imp desir friend, from whom he declared that he had first learned 
the true t^ense of the prophetic symbols. IrWng now threw 
luutM-ir unreservedly into the current that swept him away from 
all his niuorings. 

I>y tlnit strange fascination which often attends the study oi 
prophecy and the expectation of a terrestrial millennium, he now 
came to exi)ect the sjKuhj coming of Christ to set up his king- 
dom on earth, and this wrought in him the usual results of 

16 Edward lining. ' [January, 

excitement and specialty of religious thought and conversation. 
He had reached that stage of mental excitement in which 
almost every event becomes a proof of the cherished expectation, 
and the mind's own action steadily intensifies the dominant 
fascination. In this, too, he craved the sympathy of other minds 
inspired with the same sentiments, and these he readily 
obtained ; a kind of mystic circle, among whom were Hatley 
Frere, now relieved of his isolation, and the celebrated Rabbin, 
Dr. Wolff, with Irving and Ilenry Dnmimond, and others less 
distinguished ; and these, after numerous informal conversations, 
at length came together in a conference at Albury, the hospi- 
table residence of Mr. Drummond, brought together, as Irving 
declared, by " a desire to compare their views with respect to 
the prospects of the Church at this present crisis." Of these 
conferences, which usually extended over a full week, several 
were held, being closely occupied with examinations of the 
prophecies, mingled with prayers and conversations on personal 
religious life. There seeins to have been aipong them a good 
degree of spiritual zeal, as there certainly was a most dangerous 
admixture of enthusiasm and unreasoning faith, Irving set 
do^vu with his motlej' associates, a giant among pigmies, the most 
docile of the company, and quite ready to yield his own views 
to the superficial fancies of the least distinguished of the body, 
and to surrender his clearest intellectual convictions to what 
• was styled the answer to prayer. From such sessions the only 
probable results followed ; tlio foiuiticism in which they began 
was heightened and confirmed, especially in the single mind 
capable of being damaged liy it. 

Meantime the splenchd eloquence of tlie preacher, deepened 
and intensified by the new direction given to his meditations 
and yearnings, held and entranced the eager crowds that thronged 
the humble Caledonian Churcli. All this year (182G-T) a new 
and commodious church Ibr tlie use of the now permanently 
enlarged society had been in i»rogress of building in Eegent 
Square, and early in 1827 it was ready for occupation. The 
dedication of the new edifice was at length ordered, and Chal- 
mers was the chosen preacher for the occasion. Irving himself 
conducted tlic introductory services, praying full fort}' minutes 
with wonderful i'ervor and iiathos, and witli great enlargement 
of thought and grandiloquence of expression ; altogether occu- 

1863.] Edward Iimng. .17 

pying an hour and a half before he gave phice to the mightier 
one ^vho was to come after him. In the matter of time he 
was at once inexorable in asserting his prerogatives, and 
nncamdonahU in his use of it. To Chalmers, Irving was ev- 
dently an enigma ; and as he now contemplated him at his 
dizzy altitude of populaj-ity, tliough little suspecting the sad 
Jinak then so close at hand, he trembled with solicitude for his 
future, while still he both loved and admired him. 

The transition from the little Caledonian Chapel, so long 
tlirongcd by a promiscuous crowd of London fashionable life, 
to the commodious IS^ational Scotch Church in licgeut Square, 
witli its well-ordered and well-defined congregation, marks the 
cuhuination and the beginning of the descent of Irving's popu- 
larity. Ceasing to be a preacher for the whole kingdom, he 
llKiu'cfurth bi'came the minister of his own Church and congre- 
;,'..ti(,'ri, which, though enough to satisfy any ordinary ambition, 
\\:i> damaged by its contrast with the former concourse. 
Wlii-ilier iliis changed state of things contributed to the melan- 
diuly clianges which occurred in the personal history of the 
great preacher is at most very doubtful. It is certain that he 
made but little complaint respecting the loss of the fashionable 
tlirung from his ministry, and the causes which at length 
ro.'ulted in his ruin were actively at work, while he was yet at 
the height of his popularity. The excitement of which he was 
tlic center had had its ruTi and was already subsiding, when 
the change of scene and circumstances precipitated its close, 
and k'ft tlic congregation in quiet possession of their new quar- 
tt-rr, and allowed the preacher the better opportunity to prose- 
«•!:».; lii^ proplietical investigations. Of these investigations and 
l^.<-•ir results in kindness nothing further need be said than that 
l.y Ma- deo])ly, even painfully sincere in the whole matter, and 
i.H iiiuwrnents in the morasses of fanciful interpretations dis- 
p.ay Hi c.-qnal proportions his greatness and his infatuation. 

^\ itli thf earlier days of the year 1S2S a cloud of another 
com].!i .\ioii began to be seen lowering over the Scotcli National 
Clnin-li, and esj.ecially over its minister. Hitherto, though 
many con?ervative and careful people had come to regard him 
as an eccentric, and in some sense an unsafe man, yet his ortho- 
doxy had not been called in question. About that time he gave 
to the public three volumes of sermons selected from among 

18 Edward lining. [Jannarj, 

those delivered during tlie whole period since his first coming 
to London. Of tliesc sermons tliose of the first volume related 
chiefly to the Trinity, and contained his teaching respecting the 
divine persons, and especially as to the person and work of 
Christ. In all cases Irving spoke more from the heart than 
from the intellect ; and upon the great and glorious mystery of 
the incarnations, as to which the reason must be subordmate to 
faith, his intuitions alone seemed to guide his utterances. In 
all the habits of his mind he was eminently realistic, and by the 
strength of his conceptions he set every idea in a materialistic 
attitude, often subjecting purely ideal conceptions to material 
condition and accidents. Accepting and affirming with charac- 
teristic ardor all tlie great doctrines of the Church respecting the 
person and work of Christ, he came to view, and so to present, 
those great trutlis in a form somewhat diiferent from that usu- 
ally given to tliem by the cotemporary orthodoxy. Confessing 
Christ as the Saviour of tlie redeemed, and regarding his death 
as truly and really a ransom price and propitiation, his mind 
grasped the whole work of the incarnation as a redemptive pro- 
cess, which indeed culminated at the cross, but the efficiencv 
of which resided essentially in the conjunction of the Godhead 
with manhood in the person of the Son of ]\Iary. It became 
therefore a point of interest to present in a strong light the 
humanity of Christ, not as an ideal som.ething unlike our human- 
ity, but as of the seed of Abraham according to the flesh, and 
in all things made like unto his brethren. This idea, at once 
so consistent with buth Scripture and reason, and so full of com- 
fort to the believer, he seized with all the avidity of an earnest 
soul, and set forth in language perhaps not sufficiently guarded 
and qualified. Yiewing our nature as fallen when it was 
assumed by the eternal "Word, and failing to distinguish suffi- 
ciently between the effects of sin upon that nature and proper 
sinfulness, he ascribed sin to our Lord's humanity, and so made 
Jesus his own redeemer. His notions on this subject were rather 
a growth in his mind than a suddenly formed conviction ; and 
while something of the kind can be traced in his earlier teach- 
ings, they had escaped particular notice till about the time 
here referred to. The views of the cliaracter and work of Christ 
thus given might have excited notice had they been guarded 
with all needful circimispection of language, for the orthodoxy 

1803.] Edward Irving. 19 

of the age bad fixed its gaze upon two points of tlie doctrine of 
Clirist, his divinity and his sacrifice, and had mostly left out 
of view the significance and the verity of the incarnation. But 
wlien these unusual views of that doctrine were presented in 
strong and glowing language that approached to hyperbole, 
and which thrust forth what seemed to be another Gospel, the 
recoil of the Christian sentiment was no more than a natural 
result. jS'cither the preacher nor his friends, whether of his own 
times or of ours, could have any right to complain that excep- 
tions were taken, and that men took pains to inform themselves 
respecting the opinions he held and taught upon a subject at 
once so important and so delicate. Heresy hunting is ahvays an 
ungrateful business ; but since the Chm-ch has solemnly enjoined 
all its ministei-s to ''be ready with all faithful diligence to ban- 
i^h and drive away all erroneous and strange doctrines,'' the 
tlrtoi.ti<»n and ex'position of such things cannot be the odious 
thijig that some would stigmatize it as being. Probably most 
tliat di'nounce the practice have private reasons for their spe- 
cial dislike toward it. Mrs. Oliphant makes a great outcry 
about the arraignment of her client at the bar of the religious 
public, as if some great wrong had been done him. But we do 
not see it. Every public teacher is responsible to the public for 
his doctrines, and it is no hardship when any such are called 
ui>on to vindicate themselves if anything of a doubtful char- 
acter is promulgated by them. 

As this matter led to important results at the time, and was 
Ktnie years later, by a very doubtful stretch of power, made the 
^'rounds of his degradation from the ministry, a further notice 
"fit may not be improper. It is due to Irving to repeat the 
e^^sii ranee that he was himself quite unaware that there was any- 
\\invz novel or unusual in the views which he set forth. It is 
aU. only just to add, that as to the great doctrines of Christ, 
1«H divinity and his humanity, his sacrifice and eternal priest- 
h.--.. his views were in entire accordance with those of evan- 
goh'ful Chri-^tendom. But while the Church had, for the most 
part, directed its attention to his sacrifice, as that to which 
all else in tlie life of the liedcemer was subordinated, he took 
in a larger view which contemplated the whole >vork of the 
incarnation of the Word as redemptive, in that by it the 
Godliead came into vital union with humanity, fallen and under 

20 Edward Irving. [January, 

the law. This last thought carried to his realistic mode of 
thinkiug the notion of Christ's participation in the fallen char- 
acter of humanity, which he designated bj terms that implied a 
real sinfulness in Christ. Ilis attempt to get rid of the odious- 
ness of that idea by saying that tliis was overborne and at 
length wholly expelled by the indwelling Godhead, jielped the 
matter but little, and still left him open to grave censures for 
at least an unhappy method of statement. But under all this 
there is unquestionably a most precious Gospel truth, and if 
Irving was justly condemned for an unwarrantable misstate- 
mant of certain doctrines of Christianity, the orthodoxy of the 
age may be justly called to account for its partial cxliibition of 
those doctrines. For centuiies the Church has been actively 
occupied in setting forth and defending the doctnne of Christ's 
divinity, until that of his humanity has largely fallen out of its 
thinkings. It is quite time to cease from this one-sidedness and 
to take in a whole Gospel. Fallen humanity demands a sym- 
pathizing no less than an almighty Saviour ; and if indeed Jesus 
is to be that Saviour he must be apprehended by our laith, as 
"man with man," and as really and fully "touched with a 
sense of our infirmities." The Church of'Eome answers to the 
heart's yearning for human sympathy in the Mediator by giv- 
ing that office to Mary ; while our misfurmed practical creeds 
remove Jesus beyond our sympathies, and give us no other 
Mediator. The Church awaits the coming of a John, uprisiu'T 
from the Saviom-'s bosom, to set forth in all fullness the blessed- 
ness of the grace of Jesus, the incarnate God, who liath " borne 
our griefs and carried our sorrows." 

From the gathering storm of contention, Irving, in the sprint 
of 1828, set off for Scothmd to proclaim among his kindred the 
speedy coming of the Lord. At his native Annan lie preached 
in the open air to the whole a->embled comitry-side, all the 
churches being shut up on that Sabbath-day. For once a 
prophet was not ^vithout honor in his own country. iS'ext he 
went to Edinburgh, now full ot" tlie clergy of all Scotland, who 
were attending the annual ^e^.-ilJn of the assembly, to whom 
he came like another Klias. The exercises were held in St. 
Andrew's Church, where he had engaged to deliver twelve lec- 
tures on the Apocalypse. lu onler to avoid interfering with 
the usual daily duties of those who wished to hear him the 

1SG3.] Edward Irving. 21 

meetings were lield at six in the morning; and even at that 
apparently untavorable hour the honse was nsually crammed 
bet'oi'o the appointed time for two successive weeks. " He is 
drawing prodigious crowds," wrote Chalmers; "we attempted 
tliis morning to force our way into St. Andrew's Church, but 
it was all in vain. JLq changes to the "West Church for the 
accommodation of the public." To the West Church, with its 
*' throe hideous galleries," the crowd therefore rushed ; and if 
more were accommodated within its ample area than at St.. 
Andrew's, the crowd that struggled for admittance was scarcely 
It <>. One may readily agree vnih. Chalmers, who confessed, 
'' Certainly there must- have been a marvelous power of attrac- 
ts <ii that could turn a whole population out of their beds as 
• ui ly ;i> iive in the morning," That great preacher and divine 
!it !•■! '.'til rnceCL'dud in hearing him, and though he recognized 
ihc circvlivciicss of the lecturers oratory, he declared of the 
l^tTfonnanee as a whole, " It is quite woeful." • The current that 
U-re away tlie multitude failed to move Chalmers from his self- 
p^.T>M-.-vic>n ; i)robably from a defect of magnetic atfinity between 
t!:o two they repelled rather than attracted each other. From 
IMiiiburgh Irving proceeded next to Glasgow, then to Paisley, 
(ir«'(.-ni>ck, and Itosncath, and was everywhere attended by 
cxcitid crowds of wondering and bewildered listeners. There 
is u i^tage (.'f excitement that assumes the form of calmness, and 
U conij.utilde with a degree of repose, and to this he had evi- 
d<ntly attained. Apparently unmoved by the tempest he had 
t"i.'<-'d, lie wrote to his wife, "I have fairly launched my bark; 
^' ■■! ",Mcd us;" and then proceeded to fill up the letter with 
* 'M*^' -'»-•"» of private endearments and friendly congratu- 

1 r 'i'libly at this time, though he was not aware of it, Irving 
h.'.d p'-riio to feel that his po:.ition was outside of the recognized 
«-r:!'.-i.-..\y ,,r tlie Scotch Cliuj-ch. He was therefore in a con- 
k\\\:>:\ t-> .-\jiiputhize with, and to be attracted to any whom 
he imu'lit pu-unie to be in like circumstances. At that time 
Mr. C;uiij.U-ll, the minister of liow, had become an object of 
di-trust tor liuMing and teaching certain notions concerning 
the atonement not i]i agreement with those of the national 
creed. ]"5rcaking a^ ay from the rrocrustean high Calvinism of 
ti:e AVe-tminster Confession, he contemplated the whole world 

Foumn Siikies, Vol. XV.— 2 

22 Edward Irving. [January, 

as provisionally and really redeemed by Clu-Ist; and Trithont 
inferring the necessary salvation of every man, lie asserted tbe 
gracious freeness of the oflers of the Gospel to all men. Escapes 
from the iron shackles of that creed too often result in going 
over to an opposite extreme, and cpiite possibly that was Mr. 
CampbelPs case ; but his piety and evangelical zeal were beyond 
all question. He and Irving Avere at length brought together, 
and of course were strongly drawn toward each other by com- 
mon religious sympathies ; and as usual, Irving, though confess- 
edly the greater, was drawn into the orbit of the other. 
Already he had adopted the primary article in the disfavored 
creed of his newly-foimd friend, that the redemption of Christ 
was not only prospective, but actual too ; and not only for segre- 
gated individuals, but also for aggregate hmnanity ; and though 
his natural liking for dark mysteries might incline him to favor 
the scheme of predestination, the warm impulses of his heart 
were instinctively on the side of^a universal atonement. Out 
of this apparently casual conjunction in the sequel grew up 
other deeply interesting results, tlieu quite unseen by either of 
the parties. 

During his triumphal progress in Scotland he met with a 
Mr. Alexander Scott, who was then a " probationer," whom he 
engaged to become the assistant minister of the Xational Scotch 
Church. Scott was even more erratic in liis theological notions, 
as tried by the standards of Scotch orthodoxy, than either Irvino- 
or Campbell, and possessed superior power of logical perception 
and discrimination, but without a particle of enthusiasm in his 
nature. Among other tenets he held that the " spiritual irifts"' 
of the apostolic age ought still to be exercised in the Church, 
■and that only the prevailing unbelief prevented their manifest- 
ation. Irving at tlrst paid but little attention to the sugijes- 
tion ; but by a sure thongli unrecognized process his mind 
■drifted into a state of half convietiMTi, which only required what 
should seem to be direct evidence to make the conviction per- 
fect. A variety of recorded fiots sliow this to have been a 
season of unusual religious quit-kcning, especially among the 
border Scotch parishes — one of those occasional awakenin£:;3 of 
the religious consciousness of a people which, account for them 
as one may, cannot be denied as matters of fact. Irvintr's 
preaching had seconded, and perliaps somewhat diverted from 

1SG3.] Edward lining. 23 

its purely spiritual manifestation this special religious feelijig. A 
young woman of Fernicarry, of great beauty and cleverness, and 
of saintly piety, which attracted to her an unusual degree of 
ftttention, about this time became first the subject and then the 
occasion of a new and remarkable religious excitement. At 
the expense of space that we can ill afford, we insert Irving's 
own characteristic and highly illustrative account of the alTair : 

The liandmaiden of the Lord, of ^vhom lie made choice on that 
iiij^'ht (u SiuiJay evening in the end of Marcli) to manifest forth in 
\wr liis glory, had been long atHicted with a disease whieli tlie 
medical men pronounced to bo a decline, and that it would soon 
brin*: her to her grave, whither her sister had been hurried by the 
*-M\\v uiahiily some montlis before. Yet while all around her were 
u!»t!'-i|>:itin<^ her dissolution, she Avas in the strength of laith niedi- 
ta'.iii.^' nii^>i<.n:»ry l;d>ors among tlie heathen; and this niglit she 
«.»■> to rn-viw the jireparation of the Spirit; the preparation of the 
U-niy nhe n-ceivcd not till some days after. It was on the Lord's 
tby, and one of her sisters, along with a female friend, who had 
r..i!H! to tlie Iiouse for that end, had been spending the whole day 
JM hnii.ilirition, fasting, and prayer before God, with a special 
T.»|.e<-t to the restoration of the gifts. They had come up in the 
t vmin^r to tiie sick chamber of their sister, who was laid on a sof^, 
'i.'.'l alnii'j^ with one or two others of the Iiousehold, were engaged 
i!i j.rayr together. When in the midst of their devotion the'lloly 
<>l...>i came with mighty power upon the sick woman as she lay in 
her weakness, and constrained her to speak at great length and 
Mnli siijieihimiim strength in an unknown tongue, to the astonish- 
"H-nt «>! all wlio heard, and to her oM'n great edihcatiou and enjoy- 
Jiu-iit in (w.d; ^'fur he that speaketh in a tongue editieth himself/' 
^h- lias tuM me that this hrst seizure of the Spirit was the strong- 
«-«i ..hc^cvcr }ia<l, and that it was in some degree iiecossary it 

■ ". -I 5::-\(' lu'en SO, Otherwise she would not have dared to give 
■-.V, ;„ ii._l'. .J7.)_ 

A Miuilar phenomenon was witnessed a few days later at some 
""•*^ «ii<ta»ife, on the other side of the Clyde, with two broth- 
tr* l^'A an invalid sister, (llacdonalds,) persons of the most 
H.?«r arj-l unimaginative characters, all of whom "spake with 
t":!::i:' - ; and the twister experienced a wonderful miracle of 
JHaling, (■:!. (ted at the solemn command of one of the brothers. 
<M the reality of tliese phenomena, and many more of the same 
Kuid which oecurrcd in those parts soon afterward, there was 
no lack of evidence. Of course the attention of the clergy was 
attracted Uo the^e things; and while Story of Eosneath, (in 
^^•hose parish the first case had occurred,) and Campbell of Row, 

24 Edward Irving. [January, 

and Erskine of Linlatlien accepted tlic " sign " as verified spir- 
itual uianifcstatioiis, Chalmers, and others like him, "inquired, 
but -u'ould not condemn."' Irving, too, heard of and inquired 
respecting these strange things, and ^vith but little hesitation 
accepted them as sufficiently attested cases of the long-lost and 
recently earnestly sought '* spiritual gifts ;" and many of his 
Clmrch, prepared by his previous teachings, ^vere also quite 
ready to give the subject no unfriendly consideration. 

It was at this time becoming more and more apparent that 
the mental action of the great preacher had become so erratic 
as to be no longer a safe guide of action. His more discreet 
friends were becoming alarmed, and apprehensive of the most 
painful results. Chalmers again visited London early in 1S30, 
and with Coleridge called upon him, the common friend of tliese 
two great but very dissimilar men. The visit was an unsatis- 
factory and a sad one. Chalmei-s buried his sorrow at a result 
that he had not improbably feared, in silence ; but Coleridge, 
half sorrov.-ful and half indignant, eloquently eidogized the 
greatness of his now shipwrecked friend, " mourning patlietic- 
aj^y that such a man should be throwing himself away.'' Chal- 
mers both loved and honored ]iis {;arnest, honest, and erratic 
brother, and these sentiments were doubtless reciprocated ; but 
he was utterly powerless tu withhold him from the course into 
which he was rusliing, and from the catastrophe to which it 
must inevitably lead. He tlicrefore stood aloof in silence. 

The year 1831 fumid Irving in the midst of his contests with 
his outside ecclesiastical relations, and also eagerly occupied 
with the new religious wonders which had aj>pearcd in his own 
Church. As to the former, they uniformly went against him, 
for they were prosecuted by men of but narrow minds, more set 
on defending a formal and Ixirren orthodoxy than on exercising 
a broad and enlightened charity, while his attempted defenses 
rather damaged than hcl[»t'd his cause. Uaving a year before 
acceded to the ophiion th:it the '-sjiiritual gifts" were attaina- 
ble in answer to prayer, he and a lurge number of the membei-s 
of his Chm-ch had agreed to ]>ray continuously for their bcstow- 
ment. Conscious that they Lad ''asked in faith," (such was 
his self-deluding reasoning.) it seemed but little less than blas- 
phemous to doubt that they would be given. Their devotions 
— they met each morning for prayer — became more and more 

1863.] Ed'ward Irving. 25 

ecstatic, and at length assumed the form of excited »and wholly 
unintelligible utterances. Here, then, was manifested the " gift 
of tongues" of the Apostolic Church. At first Irving held the 
"gifted ones" in some degree of restraint, claiming that his 
oflicc in the Church devolved on him the right and duty to con- 
trol the exercises of the Chm-ch ; but that was only temporary. 
ai* tlie growing tide of fimaticism soon swept away all opposi- 
tion. He had indeed attempted to "try tiie spirits;" but as he 
believed before he examined, so his investigations couLl only 
c<.>ntlrm his foregone conclusions. Writing to Dr. Martin, (liis 
father-in-law,) October 26, 1S31, he announced the further foct 
tliat the Lord had "raised up the order of prophets" in his 
(Irving'?) Churchj " who both speak with tongues and proph- 
••^y ;■' and then, predicting opposition to the new order of things, 
1..- a«ld>, sadly: " But the Lord's will be done. I must forsake 
uH for him. I live by foith daily, for I daily look for his 
oj-j^ar turfy 

'J1ie strange and frightful drama of fanaticism was thus at 
length fully opened in the Xational Scotch Chm-ch in London. 
llic chief actors were confessedly among the most consistently 
dv_ \ Milt persons of that and of other Churches, the latter attracted 
tliither by its congenial atmosj^here, which fact had great influ- 
ence over many minds who were not much affected by the pre- 
vailing excitement. "Speaking with tongues" was the first 
".^^ign" tliat appeared, and it continued to be the principal. 
though by no means tlie only one. That phenomenon, as 
'.les<-ribed by those in whom it appeared, and by others, usually 
• (-^-f.-urred dm-ing or soon after a season of earnest prayer or 
"tht.-r religious exercises, and came upon the subject ynsought 
W5d often undesired. The utterances were usually at first slow 
.^'■•1 tiispliatie, but became by degrees rapid and indistinct, 
witht-iit pan^es, cadences, or other modulations, except a kind 
"f wjl.l rliytlun, the subject seeming to be all the while in a 
K2ii«l *•! nu'.-nieric ecstasy. As to the purport of the utterances 
m the unknown tongue," the speakers commoTdy knew as 
little a.s the hearers; a tact which L-ving, witli the usual logical 
I)erverseness of fanaticism, refused to notice when he said of 
these, " He that >pcaketh in an unknown tongue edifieth liim- 
t>elf." Sometimes the utterances would be in English words, 
but then between the indistinctness of enunciation and their 

26 Edward Irving. [January, 

incoliercncj.' and lack of any meaning ■u-liatever, tliey ■svere 
scarcely more intelligible than the others. Of the unknown 
tongues some had the sound of the Latin, Greek, and Hebrew ; 
and single vrords of these languages might be heard occasion- 
ally, and sometimes the whole seemed to be made up of mingled 
and mangled snatches of various modern languages, while others 
were evidently original jargon.. In tone and manner they were, 
often adm<jn*itory, and became by degrees fiercely denunciatory ; 
first against outside opposers, and at length against those in the 
Churcli who were suspected of opposing the " gifts." Irving 
for a while endeavored to control and direct the tempest, but it 
proved too powerful for him, and all things were given up to 
go "by revelation;" and that mighty mover of the tornado sat 
down in submission like a blind Sauison, to employ his powers 
oidy as others might dictate — a dictation that was exercised 
most remorselessly by his new keepers. 

The peculiar aftection of the " gifted ones " appeared first in 
the morning prayer-meetings, and its demonstrations were for 
a while confined to the less public exercises of the worshipers. 
But it presently became epidemical, and spread through the 
whole congregation, and refused to be restrained. For some 
time a kind of compromise was maintained by the partisans of 
the new order and those of the old — tlicsc permitting the exer- 
cise of "the gifts on all occasions except in the Sabbath-day 
services, and the others agreeing to abstain from their demon- 
strations iifthe public congregation. Uut soon this was declared 
to be an unwarranted interference with the liberty of the Spirit; 
so while the trustees of the Church resolutely withstood the 
introduction of the gifts into the pulilic congregation, Irving, 
after some hesitation, declared that he " could not restrain the 
Spirit of the Lord." A collision accordingly took place, the 
whole body of the trustees, including William Hamilton, Irving's 
tenderly attached brother-in-law, going in favor of excluding 
the new prophets; the result of which was the ejectment of the 
minister and his associates in the new order from their house 
of worship, thereafter to assemble in entire freedom, first in 
liobert Owen's Hall, at Grey's Inn, and afterM'ard in West's 
Picture Gallery, in Xewman-street, and to develop and run to 
seed, or rather into the ground, their rampant fanaticism. 
Irving's condition was ju^t then one to excite onlv the most 

18G3.] Edward hmng. 27 

kindly pity, since no doubt in all that lie did be acted in good 
faith, and in a spirit of sacrifice as unselfish as it was sincere. 
The desolation of his altered condition is thus stetched by 
Mrs. Oliphant: 

Oil all sides the friends of years parted from Irving's side. His 
wife's i\'l:itioiis, 'with wliom he liad exchanged so many good offices 
and lender comisels, were, to a man, against him; so were his 
eldt-rs, "with one exception. His friends outside the ecclesiastical 
boundaries ^vere still less tolerant. Thomas Carlyle and his wife, 
both much beloved, not only disagreed, but remonstrated ; the 
former makhig a vehement protestation against the "Bedlam" 
and '' Chaos" to which his friend's steps were tending, wliich Irving 
Hstined to in silence, covering his face with his hands. AYhcn the 
j>hihjso)iher liad said, doiibtless in no measured or lukewarm terms, 
what he liad to say, the mournful apostle lifted his head and 
:id'lr<'--ed him with all the tenderness of their youth — ''Dear 
t':i' nil!" — ihat turning of the other cheek seems to have touched 
il.'- I 1 irt <»f the saijc almost too deeply to make him aware what 
wns tlie defense Avhicli the Other returned to his fiery words. Xone 
C'f fii'^ old 5«itii|)orters, hitherto so devoted and loyal, stood by Irving 
in this extrt-nuty; nobody except the wife, who shared all his 
l!,.t'i-ht<, an<l fuUowed him faithfully in faith, as well as in love, 
to the margin of the grave. — P. 447.' 

Tlte dcriuucment of the play had now fairly begun, and it rap- 
idly lia^tened to its close. The " gifted ones " at Xewman-strect 
had things in their own hands, and everything proceeded by 
"vision," and '-'prophecy," and in the "Spirit ;" to all of which 
Irving gave the most reverent and obedient attention. Pity 
ami indignation are the prevailing sentiments that arise upon 
the contemplation of these things, of which we give to Irving 
rnu<-h nf the former and but little of the latter; but reverse this 
t'r<.' r as to Ids miserable and mischievous associates. His fall 
^oidd certainly seem to have been sufiaciently low to disarm all 
^'••' Jitiucnt, and to induce aiiy who were capable of a noble 
M-ntim.jnt to choose rather to cover up his shame than to punish 
h::u l.>r his departure from the bounds of a just discretion. But 
iH't ^^» tliought some of his ministerial brethren, who now, in 
luiiih ilii- Mime spirit in which some have dug up the bones of 
tlcad trait<»rs and heretics, in order to visit upon them the venge- ' 
unce wiiifli they escaped in their lifetime, proceeded to bring 
to puiiislimL'jit tiieir recusant brother. The Presbytery of 
Annan, Ity which b(Kly Irving had been first licensed to preach, 
but not ordained, by a remarkable stretch of power claimed 

28 Edward Irving. [January, 

still the right to depose him; and accordingly he was called 
to answer to that body respecting certain alleged heretical 
opinions concerning our Lord's human nature, and of course 
he vras found guilty of heresy and deposed from the ministry. 
Respecting the questions at issue in that case, we have before 
intimated that the truth was rather with Irving than his accus- 
ers ; but all that, as is usual in sucli cases, availed nothing. It 
was passion and not reason that dictated the whole proceeding. 
But Irving was practically out of their reach, and, as niiglit 
liave been anticipated, he treated their sentence as a nullity, 
and proceeded from the place of his trial to preach to assembled 
thousands in the church-yards of the surrounding parishes. 
Returning to London, he found the authority vrhich had been 
formally, and as by courtesy, conceded to him, while the real 
authority was exercised by the ''gifted ones,'' now openly 
denied him. Hitherto he had assumed to be, and was recog- 
nized as the " angel " of the Church, and therefore invested 
^vith the chief administrative powers. It was now declared, 
hoM'Cver, " by revelation" that his former "• fleslily ordination " 
was invalid, though after some delay he was rcordained by the 
prophets of this nev/ dispensation. But as the less is blessed of 
the greater, so the superiority of the ordaining prophets was 
most effectively asserted over their ungifted but mighty neo- 
phyte. That powerful eloquence, so effective to command all 
hearts, was tolerated only by favor, and often was silenced to 
^ give place to the wild confusion of the " tongues," and the 
equally senseless and more driveling prattle of some of the 
" gifted," who, when " in the power," did not hesitate to rebuke 
their great preacher, who meekly bowed to the authority he 
had recognized, and with sad thankfulness accepted the asinine 
vaporing of "the prophets." 

But happily the season of this deep degradation was not per- 
mitted to be a protracted one. At the beginning of ISSi he 
was allowed " by revelation " to visit again the northern metrop- 
olis, to proclaim once more in his own country the near-at-hand 
coming of the Lord. And it is said that even then, though his 
former fervor had somewhat abated, there was in his utterances 
a plaintive pathos scarcely less effective than his mightiest intel- 
lectual efforts. But the magic power that had betbre moved 
all Scotland liad strangely departed, and Samson had become 

1S63.] Organic Unity in Anhnals and. YegetaMes. 29 

like another man. Tlcturning after some time to London, only 
to be rebuked and chided by prating propliets speaking " in tlie 
po^vcr," he submitted ^vitli the docility of childhood and the 
faith of a martyr to these new indignities. But both his work 
and his Immiliations were approaching their termination in a 
common event. The over-tasked energies of his body and 
mind presently showed signs of a collapse, and by rapid stages 
lie sunk into deliriums, which were removed only by the bright 
transition of the emancipated spirit to its own clysian rest. A 
groat and a good man, a mighty but an erratic genius, was 
Edward Iiwing. The lessons of his life, though sad, are full of 
in>truction for both the heart and the understanding. They 
f-liow that the intellect of an angel and the heart of a seraph 
arc wholly insufficient to preserve their possessor if the mad- 
r.i-s- I'f fanaticism gets possession of the soul, and that genuiiie 
j/icty may survive its most violent attacks. 



Kiwi s Dh'iirscs cPAjtatomie Comparee, (1 849-02.) 1 . Tlie Homol- 
oLrifs of the Human Skeleton, by Holmes Cootc. — 2. Principes 
tr< >stoologio, do Eichard Owen. — 3. Le Squelette des Vei-tebrcs, 
par M. Charles Rouget. — 4. Traite d'Anatoniie Descriptive, tome 
• , i':'.r MM. Cruvielhier ct Fee. — 5. Do la Conformation Osscusc 
•Ic l.i Tc-to, etc. : These soutcuue a Montpelier, en 1862, par M. C. 
l'«rtr:,ii.l, etc. 

IH' ITTian anatomist who died young, but whose name will 
n-t ]«."ri.-]i, Vicq-d'Azyr, presented to the Paris Academy of 
.Vi.-jH^'<» a memoir " Upon the Relations existing between the 
Slnuiurv* and Functions of the Four Extremities in Man and 
the lower Animals." Condorcct, named by the Academy to 
prepare a report on this work, appreciated it in the following 
terms: "]\v comparative anatomy is commonly understood the 
observation of the relations and dilferences that exist between 
analogous parts in men and animals, or more generally, in dif- 

30 Organic Unity in Animals and YegetaLUs. [January, 

ferent species of animals. M. Yicq-cVAzyr here presents an 
essay in another species of Comparative Anatomy wliich has 
hitherto been but little cultivated, and npon wliich only a few 
isolated observations are found in anatomists ; this is the inves- 
tigation of tlie relations subsisting between the different parts 
of the same individual. . . . Thus in tliis new kind of Com- 
parative Anatomy, says ISI. Yicq-d'Azyr, we observe, as in 
ordinary Comparative Anatomy, these two characteristics which 
natm'e seems to have impressed npon all beings, that of Co7i- 
stancy iji Type and Variety in Jlod/'jlcation. She seems to 
have formed these different species and their corresponding parts 
npon one same plan which she knows how infinitely to modify." 

Eighty-eight years have fled since Condorcet pronounced these 
memorable words, and not only lias the constancy of type 
announced by Yicq-d'Azyr been verified, but all natural philos- 
ophers are agreed in regarding the entire animal kingdom as 
the infinitely varied realization of this ideal type. The laws to 
which these variations are submissive have been discovered in 
their turn, and Em1)ryology, that is, the study of the develop- 
ment of beings, has confirmed them. But before coming to the 
construction of the tyjyc and expounding the laws of its mod- 
ification some definitions appear indispensable. 

Several kinds of anatomy exist : lirst, Descriptive, or Topo- 
graphic Anatomy, which is restricted to making known the 
form, size, and relations of organs in man and the animals. 
Most of these organs being concealed from our vie^v by the 
common envelope of the body, the scalpel is requisite to 
open our way to them. When vegetables are the subject of 
Descriptive Anatomy it takes the name of Organography, for in 
them all the apparatus is exterior; these are buds, leaves, 
flowers, and fruits. Aristotle, whose grand form a]»pears at 
the origin of all human learning, understood that it does 
not sufiice to describe the organs of an isolated being, but 
that it is necessary to compare them with those of other ani- 
mals, to seize their analogies, to appreciate their diflerences, 
since these analogies or these difierences are literally exempli- 
fied by the aptitudes, functions, and customs of the animals 
studied from this point of view. Comparative Anatomy begot 
Philosophic Anatomy, of which Yicq-d'Azyr and Condorcet 
were the pioneers; and soon after Bichat, iit once anatomist 

1863.] Organic Unity in AnimaU and Vegetables. 31 

and physician, laid the foundations of General Anatomy. In 
this science the identity of a tissue is recognized in the various 
parts of the organization ; thus it is proved that the envelopes 
of the brain, lungs, digestive organs, and the membraneous sacs 
uliich facilitate the play of the articulations, are all of the 
giiiue nature, and Eichat gave them the name serous mem- 
branes, Avhich they still retain. 

The perfection of the microscope and the emjJoyment of 
diemieal reactives having furnished the means of penetrating 
deeper into the structure of vegetable and animal tissues, the 
name oi Histology has been lately given to that branch of Gen- 
eral Anatomy ^vhich renders us more and more acquainted 
with the iimer structure of living tissues. In plants, the organs 
of respiration and reproduction being all external. Vegetable 
AnatMHjy is properly speaking nothing but Histology ; that is, 
l!n- ku'Avk'ilgc of the tissues composing the roots, stalks, leaves, 
frnitis, tlowcrs, and seeds. 

All tiiesu branches of Anatomy lend each other mutual sup- 
j'oit ; tmited with Zoology and Botany, which classify organ- 
ized bemg's according to their natural affinities, they lead us to 
the conception of a general science of organization and to the 
discovery of the laws which rule the v\-hoie, of which we form 
a j.-art. All these laws may be summed up in one, promul- 
gated by Yicq-d'Azyr and Condorcet, Constancy in Type and 
A'ariety in Modification ; but this unity results from a certain 
nuiidjer of secondary laws which we are going to study in their 
euccessive manifestations in vegetables and animals. These 
laws are, the law of Symmetry, Metamorphosis or Transforma- 
tion of Organs, their Balance and Constancy of Connections. 
Penetrated with their spirit and informed of their consequences, 
Wo can proceed to the establishment of the vegetable and ani- 
mal type. The reader will then clearly see what is the present 
>?tato and what the future of our knowledge of tlic highest and 
iiio.-t philusophic part of the general science of organized beings. 

I. Imxo cy Symmetry in Animals and Vcgctallcs. 

All organized Ijeings are symmetrical, that is, composed of 
similar halves; but tliis symmetry is not the same in the entire 
series of aninuils and vegetables. Consider a vegetable and 
suppose it cut into halves by a vertical plane. To whatever 


io Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [January, 

point of the compass the plane may be turaed, whether directed 
from north to south, from east to west, from north-east to south- 
west, no matter, the vcgetahle will always be divided into two 
symmetrical parts. The same Jaw applies to the flower, which 
is the most complicated apparatus, the most conspicuous part 
of the vegetable. Examine a regular flower, a lily, ranunculus, 
rose, or primrose; any plane whatever will always divide those 
flowers into two equal parts, pro\'ided this plane pass through the 
center of the flower and be perpendicular to the plane of inser- 
tion for the petals and stamens. This law applies equally to 
the animals which compose the last division of the animal king- 
dom, the zoophites or radiata. A star-fish, echinus, medusa, 
eea anemone, are symmetrical, like regular flowers; like them, 
they are formed of parts that seem arranged as the radii of a 
circle whose center would correspond to that of the anijnal. 
But in vegetables even we have the index of another kind of 
symmetry. The plane which separates the two similar parts 
no longer takes any point of the compass at random, but a 
determinate direction. Take a sago, snapdragon, foxglove, 
pea, or kidney bean flower, etc., an irregular flower in a word, 
it can be divided into two equal pai-ts oidy by a single vertical 
plane passing through the ax-is of the flower ; this is bilateral 
symmetry. rules the three higher 
di^•isions : the Yertebrata, Articulata, and Mollusca. Thus 
man presents the bilateral symmetry. The plane which divides 
him into two similar parts passes through the sternum, a bone 
set in the middle of the breast, and the spinal column. This 
plane is designated as the vertebro-sternal. 

In vegetables which are deprived of internal organs, the law 
of symmetry is absolute and true in respect to internal as well 
as external parts. Xot so with animals ; evident and true as to 
external and visible parts, it is not so with those which are 
interior; thus the lungs, heart, stomach, liver, and intestines 
are not symmetrical organs, and are not even symmetrically 
posited, relative to the vertebro-sternal plane, in the cavities by 
which they are inclosed. The law of symmetry applies solely 
to organs of sense, to membei-s which are organs of movement, 
and to the nervous system, namely, the bi-ain, spinal marrow, 
and all nerves of sensation and motion ; in other terms, to all 
parts which put us into relations with the external world. The 

1SG3.] Organic Unity in Animcds and Vegetables. 33 

organs of relative life, to express myself like physiologists, are 
therefore perfectly symmetrical ; but not so those which fullill 
purely vegetative functions, such as. the lungs, liver, spleen, 
Btomach, and digestive canal. In the animal kingdom the law 
is absolute, and a few exceptions, like the fish called plenronects, 
whose eyes are both on the same side, cannot invalidate it. 
l]cside tlie Law of Symmetry appears another, a modification 
of the former, which I shall call the Laio of Bcpetitlon. 
Examine a leech, a wood-louse, a caterpillar ; is it not evident 
that these animals are composed of a great number of segments, 
or rings, which are all the repetition one of another 'I The 
first ring, that of the head, and the last, alone differ ; the others 
are identical in form and structm-e. In a lobster, or a craw- 
fish, the resemblance is least, but it exists. We recognize it 
furtlier in the body of insects, always composed of three like 
portions, the head, the corslet, and the abdomen. Finally, 
even in the mammifers, in man himself, the law of repetition is 
manifest. In fact, if we suppose a plane perpendicular to the 
vertebral column and placed horizontally at the height of the 
loins, this plane divides the human skeleton into halves, an 
up];)cr and a lower. These parts are neither similar nor sym- 
metrical, but either is a repetition of the other. The lower 
limbs are the repetition of the superior, the bones of the base 
recall those of the shoulder, the coccyx is the image of the 
neck. The head alone, an adjunct of the superior part, is 
wanting in the inferior. The parallel may be carried into 
detail, but it requires special knowledge, which I cannot expect 
5m mi.>t persons who will take the trouble of reading this study. 
'Ihe world is ruled by mathematical laws. Kewton, who 
unvailed to us those which govern the course of the stars, called 
<i*-l ihe grerit Geometer. He foresaw that the structure of 
or^'uni/od beings would one day be reduced to laws equally 
^STJH.ll., (.jually general. The planets revolve around the sun, 
tlt-oribing ellipses; the parabola, the route followed by nun- 
j«.Ti.« cunicts, being only a special form of the ellipse, the 
laltcr btA-..iues the fundamental geometric figure in the celestial 
niechaiii-m. In the bosom of the earth minerals crystallize in 
polyhc'druns, fullowing immutable laws. Despite their greatly 
varied a]ipcarance, all those wliose chemical composition is the 
same have a hkc primitive form whence all secondary forms 

34 Organic Unity in Animals and VegetaUes. [Janiiaiy, 

are derived ; thus eight hundred crystalline forms of carbonate 
of lime are enumerated ; they are all derived from the parallel- 
epiped, the primitive form of this substance. 

The geometrical figure according to wliich the parts compos- 
ing organized beings are disposed is the spiral, or rather the 
helix, which is only a spiral wound round a cylinder. This 
spiral has been traced out in the vegetable kingdom by Alex- 
ander Braun, Sehimpfer, and Bravais. Take a pear branch, 
quite straight, a cutting called gormand, then select any leaf 
whatever for a point of departure, and call it zero ; next count 
the leaves successively upward, and numbering them one, two, 
three, four, stop at leaf five, you will see that yon have gone 
twice rouud the branch, and that the fifth, leaf is directly above 
the' zero leaf. This is the figure called the quincunx, and the 
angle that separates any leaf from the following one is equal 
to two fifths of the circumference. The ditl'erent parts which 
compose the flower, namely, the sepols, petals, stamens, and 
eaq^els, are likewise disposed in spirals ; only the spiral is so 
flattened that they seem arranged on so many concentric circles. 
"When the organs are numerous and drawn together, as, 'for 
example, in houseleek rosettes, the large aggregate flowers like 
the sunflower, the fruit of tlie pine-apple, the cones of pines 
and firs, the eye perceives at first several systems of spires, gen- 
dered by one fundamental or generative spire. In pine cones 
this spire is such, that after eight revolutions about the axis, 
the scale numl)ered twenty-one comes above that numbered zero. 
The angle which separates two successive scales is ^V of the cir- 
cumference. Thus we find again that constancy of angles which 
we demonstrate in regular crystals, and these leaves, flowers, 
scales, which seem sown hap-hazard on the stalk, are arranged 
according to invariable geometrical laws. 

The helix rules ecpially in the animal kingdom; the quills 
of hedgehogs, the scales of fish and serpents, form continuous 
or discontinuous spires around the body of these animals. In 
a miiltitude of shells the helix is so well sketched that geometry 
has borrowed the name of this figure from the shell of the snail 
(lielix), where it is displayed with a distinctness and regularity 
that attracts every eye. In mollusks with helicoid shells, even 
the body of the animal is twisted into a spiral; but it ol)ey3 
the geometrical law which controls the arrangement of the 

'■^ ^'^^l^lSci 

1SC3.] Organic Unity in Animals and Yegetalles. 35 

appendices of the trunk. M, Charles Ronget has shown that 
the disposition in interwoven spirals prevails in the muscular 
system of animals; it is found in the abdominal muscles in 
man, in the structure of the heart, the arteries, the esophagus, 
the bladder, etc., and in the cylindrical body of cartilaginous 
li^]), such as the cyclastomous ones, (lamprey, lump-fish, and 
myxon.) In every skeleton of the vertebrates a single bone is 
twisted, that of the arm; now it is t^dsted in a helix of ISO 
degrees, or a half circumference in terrestrial or aquatic mam- 
mifers, as man, the lion, seal, and dolphin ; of 90 degrees, or 
a right angle, in birds, and reptiles like turtles, lizards, and 
frogs. The sea unicorn, great cetacean monster of the Arctic 
seas, carries a tusk often six and a half feet long; it is twisted 
into a helix, and has served as a model for the frontal horn of 
the fabulous unicorn which figures in the coat of arms of Great 

IT. Mdamorj)hosis or Transformation of Organs. 

The symmetry of organized beings and the regular arrange- 
ment of the external organs are two points which I regard as 
c>t;ibli^hed. At first .glance we are frightened at the number 
and variety of these organs ; in plants, leaves, bracts, scpols, 
j>etuls, stamens, fruit, and seed ; in animals, feet, hands, wings, 
tins, etc. All these various organs can be reduced to unity; 
all have as a basis one and the same organ, infinitely trans- 
f'-niied and adapted to the most diverse functions. In order to 
'•^- U'tter understood, I commence with the animal kingdom, 
f^-'id in the animal kingdom with the class to which M-e belong, 
':»t-- niammifers. I examine in this class what are the moditi- 
ratutns of the limb, upj)er or lower. In man this is a hand, 
•"i-^-'-iuiiy an organ of precision, lending itself to all the exi- 
;:« :jci<v of the will, a docile instrument of human thought in 
t!u' swMiiplL^hment of all wonders of art and industry. But 
Jtln'-idy \n the ape this very perfect hand is degraded. Tro- 
vrtlod v\;ih four hands, and not, like man, with two hands and 
two ffft, the aj)L' walks or climbs by the aid of hi.s hands ; while 
with man the hand is never an organ of locomotion, but remains 
eviT in tin- service of the intellect. In some apes the thumb 
di.-aj.poars; this is a further degree of degradation; but the 
organ is always recognizable. It is no longer so in the bat. 

36 Organic Unity in AnimaU and VegctaUcs. [Januarj, 

Tlie hand lias become a wing, and yet its structure is imclianged ; 
tlie thumb is reduced to a simple hook ; the digits, dispropor- 
tionately long, are imited by a membrane which envelopes the 
whole body ; the organ of prehension is metamorpiiosed into a 
M'ing, and without creating anything de novo, nature succeeds 
in producing from essentially climbing animals beings "whuse 
life is wholly aerial, for the bat can neither walk nor climb, it 
can only fly. Yet all its characteristics approximate those of 
the ape and man. Its place is marked at the eiid of the series 
of mammifers, all whose characteristics it presents. We come 
to the carnivora : here is a more sejisible ditference between the 
anterior and posterior members. The extremity takes the name 
of paw. The digits are neither long nor separate, the organ is 
no longer an organ of prehension : a cat, a dog seize an object 
only by pressing it between their fore paws ; their limbs and 
digits are locumotivc organs, and they walk on the point of 
their claws. In the bear an im])erfect heel i)ermits an oblique, 
vertical position, whose awkwardness awakens the mirth of the 
child, who already has the idea of a perfectly vertical attitude. 
The paw of the cat and bear enjoys great mobility, and, con- 
sequently, a certain address; their fore limbs are not merely 
organs of locomotion, but still serve for seizing and holding 
their prey. It is not the same with the ruminants and the 
solipeds : with the ox, sheep, stag, or horse the limbs are sim- 
ple supporting columns ; with the first they terminate in t-^vo 
digits, these are cloven-footed rununants; with the others l)y a 
single digit, these are the horse and his congeners, the ass, 
zebra, etc. 

All the aninjals of which v/e have just spoken are terrestrial 
or aerial. A final transformation devotes them to an aquatic 
existence. In seals and sea-cows, the digits, united by a mem- 
brane, have become oars, and in cetaceans (porpoise, dolphin, 
whale) true finsj but the skeleton is always com])osed of tlie 
same bones, moved by the same muscles. The fimctions Iiave 
changed ; the type of the ineniber has remained immutable. It 
is the same instrument, whose forms and uses alone have varied. 
AVe find them again in birds. AVith these the digits are unde- 
veloped, but are replaced by feathers. A bird flies, like a bat, 
by the help of his hands; but the end is attained by a difl'crent 
artifice. In reptiles the limbs are transformed anew into organs 

18C3.] Organic Unity in AniniciU and Vegetables. 37 

for locomotion on Lmd or swimming in water, but they rather 
impel than carry the body ; thence the creepiuo; gait, which con- 
sists in drawing the belly of the animal over the gronnd, like 
turtles, crocodiles, lizards, and frogs. Finally, in the serpent 
tlie limbs disappear, and the animal walks by the help of his 
false ribs, which become organs of motion, while in the superior 
animals they protect the viscera of the lower belly. In fish the 
moMibers reappear, but apparently under a difterent form ; they 
are fins composed of rays ; these rays are our digits, and the 
arm of man himself is composed of five rays confounded in the 
single bone of the arm, reduced to two in the forearm, and 
perfectly distinct only in the hand. Thus in all the vertebrates 
the members are constructed on the same type. The numerous 
exigencies of the most various kinds of life, at the surface of or 
undtT the eartli, in the air or water, are satisfied by the same 
organ fundamentally identrcal, but unrecognizable by our cor- 
iKjreal oyc?, through the diversity of its forms and the variety 
of its uses: the mind's eye can alone discern them. Man, a 
vulgar mechanic, fabricates an instrument according to the end 
lie desires to attain; nature makes but one, and limits herself 
to modifying it as need requires ; she is sol)er in creation, lavish 
in metamorphosis. « 

Are other examples desired ? In the higher animals the nose 
is the organ of the sense of smell ; in the hog, the tapir, it 
becomes a snout, with which the animal roots the earth ; in the 
elephant it is prolonged into a flexible trumpet, furnished with 
a movable digit, and its extremity fulfills the function of a hand. 
Nothing is more ditferent at first view than the envelopes which 
<>'\vi- the body of the mammifers ; at bottom their nature is 
"'h'Uiical, they are always skins; variously agglutinated, they 
f'-riu the bri>tles of the boar, the quills of the hedgehog and 
l-'rtMJi.iiio, the scales of the pangolin, the nasal horns of the 
rh::i...-<T..-;, or frontal ones of the ox, sheep, goat, the claws of 
cjiniivi.n.u-^ animals, the hoofs of horses, and, fiiuilly, the nails 
<'f ajK-> and men. IMie tail, wanting in man and the anthroi'o- 
mcrphic bub.M.ns, becomes prehensile, and fulfills the ofiice of a 
fifth hand in American apes, the kinkajou, the didelphys, the 
chameleun ; while it serves fur a base, support, or true foot in the 
kangaroo and jerbua. An organ is not therefore characterized 
by its use, for the same organ fills the most diverse roles, and 

Fourth Skries, Vol. XV.— 3 

38 Organic Uiiity in Ajiimals and VegetahUs. [January, 

reciprocally, tlie same function may be accomplished by very 
difFcrent organs ; thus the nose and tlie tail may perform the 
office of the liand, which, in its turn, becomes a -^-ing, an oar, a 
tin. Thus De Candolle said in his lectures : "Birds fly lecausc 
thov have wings ; but a true naturalist would never say, ' Birds 
liave wings in ""order to fly.'" The distinction seems puerile; 
it is really profound. In fact, the ostrich has wings which can 
never sustain hiin in the air, but M-hich ci[uickcn his speed ; those 
.)f the casoer and the aptcrix of Xew Zealand are so little devel- 
oped that they serve absolutely no purpose. These facts are 
the condemnation of final causes. We see, indeed, that func- 
tions are a result, not an end. The animal undergoes the kind 
<»f life that his organs impose, and submits to the imperfections 
of his organization. The naturalist studies the play of his 
apparatus, and if he has the right of admiring most of its parts, 
lie has likewise that of showing the imperfection of other parts 
and the practical nselessness of those which fulfill no function. 
(Jocthe has so mcII expressed these thoughts that the reader will 
thank me for translating this fragment of a conversation which 
he had with Enkerman on the evening of February 20, 1831 : 

Man is iialurally (lis[;osod to regard himself as the center and 
i-nd ot' creation, and consi<ler all beiiigs surrounding him as 
iiitcndid to subserve his ]iersonal advantage. He seizes upon the 
animal and vegetable kini^jdom, devours them, and glorities the 
iiud whose paternal goodness prc])ared the festal board, lie takes 
tlie cow's milk, the bee's honey, the sheep's wool, and because he 
renders these animals u.-eful to himself, fancies they were created 
for his use. He cannot imagine the least blade of grass but for his 
benetit, and when he carmot discover any utility, thinks it will be 
uiivailed in time. 3I:in transfers this logic of ordinary life to 
science, and applies it to the ditferent parts which compose each 
particular being. He inquires for the work and utility of each. 
. These liule reasonings may be drawn out for a time, but soon their 
insufliciency a]>pears from the contradictions they create. Finalists 
say, ''Oxen have horns to defend themselves;" but then, why have 
sheep lujne? and if they do have them, why arc they turned back- 
wan 1 about their ears so as to be of no use ? We must say, "The 
ox defends himself with horns because he lia>'them.*' Iiupiiring for 
the end, the whv is not seientitic; but one may put the question 
how the ox comes to have horns on his forehead. This inquiry 
leads us to study his organization, and inlbrms us why the lion has 
no liorns and can have n<jne. The finalists woidd think them- 
pelves deprived of their God if they did not worship him who gave 
tlie ox horns for his defense. Permit me to adore iiim who, in the 
profusion of plants that cover the earth, has created one which 

18G3.] Organic Unity in Animals a?id Vegetables. 39 

contains them all, and in tlio profusion of animals, one who com- 
prehends all in liiinself, man. ]^et them venerate, if they will, him 
who has abundantly provided for the nourishment of the beasts and 
for ours ; as tor me, I adore him who has given the world a pro- 
ducti\e force whose millionth part alone, entering into life, peoples 
the irlobe Antli innumerable creatures that neither pestilence, war, 
water, nor lire can destroy. ])ehold my God ! * 

The interior organs suffer metamorphoses analogous to tliose 
of the limbs. In the mammifers, birds, and Teptiles, the res- 
piratory organs fill the chest, the air falls into tlie lungs, and 
ito oxygen combines with the blood. Fish plunged in water 
respire the air decomposed in this liquid. In tliem the lungs 
no lunger exist as respiratory organs, but they constitute tlie 
swiiuniitig bladder, which enables the fish to rise easily to the 
Mirfaro t.f tlie water. Fisli breathe by gills situated near the 
\.-:a<\. This exterior respiratory apparatus, this system of gills 
ftj.'j<aring for tljc first time in vertebrata, is it really new ? lio ; 
it is tlie hyoid apparatus which in mammifers, birds, and rep- 
tihs U attaclied to the organs of taste and voice. In the fisli 
it t:iiji|>orts the gills, on whose surftice the decomposed air in the 
water combines with the blood. Thus every organ adapts itself 
to tlie most varied functions, without its nature and connections 
being cliangcd. 

III. Condancy of Connections and Balance of Organs. 

All animals being constructed on the same type, all should 
present a full assemblage of the essential and fundamental 
j'art.s of tliis type. Two other conditions, logical corollaries of 
the l:iw of symmetry, compel all beings to enter this geomet- 
rical mould. These two conditions, or secondary laws, are con- 
fetnnoy of connections and balance of organs. Whatever may 
l"C the metamorphoses of any organic apparatus, its connections, 
It.- relations to neighboring parts, do not change. Thus, whether 
an anteriur member be a hand, foot, wing, or fin, it will be 
always attaclied to the shoulder, and the posterior members, 
likcw i.-e, will ever be attached to the base. The exceptions are 
only apparent, and disappear before serious criticism. The 
other law is that of the balance of organs, promulgated by 
Cio«'the in 1705 in the- following manner : The total in Nature's 
budget is invariably fixed ; yet she is free to ai)ply partial sums 
* See a discussion of this subject page 175 

40 Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [January, 

to whatever expense she pleases. In order to expend on one 
side slie is forced to economize on tlie other. This is wliy she 
can neither become indebted nor bankrupt. Also when one 
organ develops disproportionately, the others must diminish 
in like measure or wholly disappear. We shall see numerous 
examples. I shall borrow them first from the animal kingdou), 
for these are most intelligible and convincing for two reasons: 
first, the functijj^ns are more various and better distinguished 
than in vegetables ; secondly, we being ourselves a part of the 
animal kingdom, understand more fully functions analogous to, 
or identical with, those of our own organism. "We know from 
ourselves, without being able to doubt thereof, that there are 
organs in us which fullill no function, while they are of capital 
importance in other species of animals. 

These are my proofs : Wonum bears on her bosom two breasts 
intended to nourish the new-born child. In man the breasts do 
not develop, l)ut the two nipples exist, because, man and woman 
being constructed on the same plan, the breasts developed in 
woman should exist in man, at least in the rudimentary state. 
We admit that these organs are useless to n:»an, that they per- 
form no function ; but unity of type demanded that they should 
be represented, and thoy are. ^Many nuimmifers, horses in par- 
ticular, can agitate their skin, and so drive off troublesome 
insects ; it is by a membraneous muscle attached to the skin 
that it is thus shaken. This muscle is not wantino- in man • it 
is extended over the sides of the iicck, but is without use. We 
have not the like ability to contract it voluntarily. It is there- 
fore useless as a nmsele, but it is there, like a corner-stone, in 
proof of unity of composition. The mammaha called marsu- 
pials, such as the kangaroo, dideli»liys, in a M'ord, all the quad- 
rupeds of Australia, are furnished witli a pouch situated before 
the abdominal muscles, where the young remain durin«- the 
period of lactation. This jxjuch is furnied of muscles and sup- 
ported by two bones. Though ranking at the other end of the 
scale of mammifers, man has :ind ought to have traces of this 
arrangement which, in him, i- <.f no utility. The spines of the 
pubis represent the mar.-ui)i:d bones and the pyramidalis 
muscle, those which inclose the poueh of kangaroos and the 
didelphys. With us thoy arc evidently useless. Another 
example : The calf of the leg is formed by two powerful mus- 

1SG3.] Organic Unity ifi Animals and VegdaUes. 41 

cles, which are inserted at the heel by means of the tendon of 
Achilles; beside these is fonnd another long, slender muscle, 
called the phmtarics by anatomists. This muscle, having the 
paine attachments as the other two, produces the same effect 
that a light cotton thread would if wound round a huge ship's 
cable. In man, therefore, the muscle is useless ; but in the cat 
and other animals of the same class, the tiger, panther, and 
leopard, this muscle is as strong as the others, and it assists 
these animals in executing those prodigious bounds that they 
perform in reaching their prey. Useless to man, then, this 
muscle is very useful to the animals of which we speak ; but it 
exists in us because all mammifers have been constructed on 
the same type of which each of them reproduces the essential 

Hirds are furnished with a third eyelid; it moves horizon- 
tally before the eye and defends it from the too lively impres- 
jjjou of the luminous rays without totally preventing sight. 
Tlio lachrymal sac, which occupies the internal angle of the 
human eye, is a trace of this tliird eyelid. I finish by an exam- 
ple still more significant. In herbivorous animals, the horse, 
ox, and in certain others, the large intestine presents a great 
fold in the form of a cul-de-sac, called the coecum. In man 
this fold docs not exist, but it is represented by a little appen- 
dix tu which its form and length have given the name appendix 
vtriuiformis. Digested aliments cannot penetrate this narrow 
appendix, which is therefore useless; but if, through some mis- 
cliance, some fruit-stone, or fragment of bone, insinuates itself 
5::to this appendix^ there results first an inflammation, then a pcr- 
i^'faiiun of the intestinal canal, accidents followed by almost 
«nain death. Thus we carry an organ not only, useless, but 
*»--;'K may lead to serious danger. Indifferent to individuals, 
Ns'(;ru abandons them to all chances of destruction ; her solici- 
t«:<!.' diHs nut extend beyond the species whose perpetuity she 
h:i- 'thonvisc secured. The organs that we have now enumer- 
M'.i d in man, and which observation, experience, and good sense 
d.clarr umU-.-s, are not so in the eyes of the naturalist, for they 
j'rochiim the great law of unity of com]>osition ; their utility is 
wh<illy intellectual ; they arc not organs fullilllng funetions, but 
their existence is rich in instruction which should not be lost 
on philoso})hy. 

42 Orgafiic Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [January, 

Certain parts do not suffer atrophy nor disappear, but they 
unite and arc confounded with otliers ; this results from union 
or organic coalescence. Often the coalescence is evident ; the 
digits of a duck's foot or a bat's wing arc united by a mem- 
brane, but they arc still visible ; they are not so in the oar of a 
seal, dolphin, or whale, because a common envelope hides them 
from our view, but they none the less exist. Under the skin 
we find all the bones which compose the hand of man and the 
other mammifers. In turtles the skin hardens and unites at 
the sides, which end by disappearing in age. In the cetaceans 
and the cartilaginous fish the internal organ of hearing, or 
labyrinth, is separated from the cranium; in all the other ver- 
tebrata it is connected with it and seems to form a part of the 
temple bones ; reciprocally the eye that moves freely in the 
orbit of mo?t superior animals is united to it in certain fish. 
This fixed and motionless eye shares only in the movements of 
the entire body. Coalescences, like abortions, are snares set 
for the sagacity of the zoologist. Like the mechanic who 
directs changes in the decorations of a theater, Nature seems 
desirous of concealing from us the secret of her continual met- 
amorphoses and of covering the law of unity by the varietv that 
governs all her transformations. It is needful to be well pene- 
trated with this truth in order not to be abused by deceitful 
appearances; they cannot mislead him, however, who knows 
that these plastic forces are in no respect arbitrary, but 
obey laws immutable as those which ^.reside over the eternally 
regular movements of the celestial bodies. Among these 
laws we shall place in the front rank tlie Balance of Ori>:ans. 
to employ the word consecrated by Etienne GeofiVoy Saint 

The Balance of Organs, as we liave said, is that law by vir- 
tue of which one part cannot assume a great development 
except another part, or parts, (limini^h in volume or disappear 
totally. In serpents the limbs sulicr abortion ; also the bodv 
is, so to say, iniinitely prolonged. In the saurians, (crocodiles, 
lizards,) where paws exist, tlio Imdy is shorter, more compact, 
and t<.-rminate3 in a lunger tail. Everybody can trace this 
gradual shortening of the limb- curre-^ponding to a relative 
lengthening of tlie body in aiiinuds sume of which are very 
well known. In ordiiuir)' lizards the paws are well developed, 

16C3.] Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables. 43 

the body little lengthened, and tlie tail not much extended. 
In the st_ps of the south of France the limbs are very short, the 
body lun-'er, the tail larger. AVith the biuuina the anterior paws 
are the only remaining ones ; in bipeds it is the posterior ones. 
In \\\(i pseudo-pus, which inhabits Dalmatia, only traces of the 
l.c.slcriur limbs are discernible ; the body and tail are very long, 
rinallv, in the common orvet or glass snake of our woods, we sec 
no limbs; they are concealed imder the skin; the animal has a 
sternum like lizards, but the body is cylindrical and lengthened 
like a serpent's. This problematic being forms the transition 
lK.*t\vecn saurlans, rei)tiles provided with limbs, and true ser- 
])ents, which are wholly devoid of them. With frogs and toads, 
the development of the limbs, and especially the i)Osterior limbs, 
takes place at the exj^ense of the tail, which disappears, and 
uf the body, which is more compact than that of the saurians. 
^Ve catch Mature at work; when tadpoles turn into frogs, the 
tail diminishes and suffers atrophy in proportion as the paws 

If the posterior members develop unduly, as in kangaroos 
and jerboas, the anterior limbs become so short that they no 
longer reach the ground. The animal leaps on his hind paws, 
and, at rest, supports himself by his tail. In certain birds, as 
the ostrich, the casoer, the apterix of Xew Zealand, the enor- 
mous increase of the legs is balanced by the imperfect develop- 
nient of the wings, which are so short in the ostrich, and \vant- 
ing in the casoer and apterix. 

Are examples desired drawn from special parts and not from 
tlu! entire animal? Man is the only mammifcr whose hantl 
luid foot are entirely distinct from each other. It is a case of 
biduncing the organs. In the hand the digits are long, flexible, 
J'M.l the thumb separate. But the part called the curpus, which 
join* the hand to the. forearm, is composed of seven small 
U-nc- uniU'd one with another. In the foot, the organ homolo- 
{:v.n* with the band, these seven bones likewise exi»t, but are 
inudi hirgiT. One of them in i)articular, the calcaneus, which 
form- the* iufl, is represented by the pisilbrm, whose size dues 
nut cxcecil that of u pea. The bones of the metatarsus, form- 
ing the sole of the foot, are in like maimer longer and larger 
than those of the metacarpus, which constitute the paim of the 
hand. The balance of organs appears in the relative brevity 

44 Organic Unity hi Animals and Ycgetallcs. [January, 

of the toes compared with the lingers. In the monkey, which 
has four hands, the heel does not exist, and the digits have visi- 
bly the same length in the four extremities ; but the bear, that 
walks on the sole of the foot, has the digits of the fore paws 
relatively longer than tliose of the posterior ones. He can 
seize a stick with his fore paws but not with the hinder ones. 
The horse is a solipcd ; he walks on a single digit answering to 
onr middle one, clad with a nail called the hoof. This single 
digit, very large, as every one knows, articulates with a bone 
equally unique called the canon. This canon is one of the five 
metacarpal bones in man, monkeys, and bats. Its volume is 
enormous, its length considerable ; the other metacarpal bones 
are reduced to two thin stilettoes worn to a point and without 
use. These stilettoes represent our metacarpals of the index 
and ring-finger; tho>e of the thumb and little finger have com- 
pletely disappeared. Thus this single finger, by developing 
disproportionately, has, so to say, absorbed all the substance 
that Xature intends for the formation of the five digits in the 
superior* animals. In ruminants (the stag, ox, sheep) there are 
two digits and two coalesced n)etacarpals. In the hog there 
are four; and every one knows huw much less is the relative 
size of these digits than that of the one digit whicli forms the 
liorse's hoof. 

Take an example of another kind. The leg of a quadruped 
is formed of two bones, the fibula in front, the tibia behind. 
In the marsupials, which occupy the lower scale of the order of 
mammifers, the two bones are of like volume. In proportion 
as we rise in the series tli(^ tibia becomes larger, but the fibula 
more slender. In man the fibula is only an easily fractured 
rod. In the rhinoceros the tibia is enormous and the fibula 
very thin; in most rnminaiits this terminates in a point and. 
does not reach the ankle. With the lioi-se it is reduced to a 
kind of bodkin two or tlnve inches long; in the elk to a tuber- 
cle; in the camclcoj'anl, lama, (Intniedary, ox, dog, and hind 
it totally disappears. Dut in tlic.-t.' animals the tibia is enor- 
mous, and we jierceivc that its devol('i>ment takes place at the 
expense of the fibula. The budget" of Xatm-c is therefore con- 
stant, and she couM not increase one chapter without diminish- 
ing another, or riducing them all {woportionally to their rela- 
tive value. 

1S63.] Organic Ujiity in Animals and Vegetables. 45 

It is time to show that these great La-«-s apply equally to the 
vcgetublc kingdom, Linna?u3 had a presentiment of them in 
his dissertation entitled Melamorjyhosis Plantarum ; but it 
was reserved to a poet boldly to promulgate the law of meta- 
morphosis in botany. This man, this poet, is Goethe. " Xext 
to Shakspeare and Spinoza," says he, "Linnaeus is the man who 
wrought most powerfully upon me." Goetlie was accustomed 
U\ carry the botanical philosophy of the great naturalist in all 
his rambles. Rosseau's letters on botany had also interested 
}iim. A sojourn at Carlsbad, during which a young botanist 
brought him, every morning, flowers collected in the surround- 
ing mountains, hunting expeditions in the great forests of 
Thuringia, all contributed to maintain this growing taste for 
vegetable science. In the spring of 17S6, while crossing the 
Alps on his way to Italy, he was filled with astonishment at 
the sight of those Alpine flowers blooming in a few days, on 
declivities whence the snow had hardly departed. The contrast 
became more striking still from the aspect of southern vegeta- 
tion, wliic]i he admired in all its pomp, at the botanical garden 
of Padua, the oldest in Europe. The idea of bringing all the 
'•rgans of plants back to a single type seized his mind. Xeithcr 
the distractions of the journey, the tragedy of Tasso which 
lie was then elal->orating, the wonders of Italian art, the 
nietnorials of antiquity, nor the facile pleasures of liome, could 
rc.-train him from his scientific preoccupation. On his arrival 
in Sicily, the original identity of all vegetable members was a 
demonstrated truth with him. From a small number of facts 
he had deduced a theory, since confirmed by all botanists and 
"JiivLTMilly admitted. All now know that the leaf is the 
futidanicntal organ of the plant, the others being only trans- 
f -nn.-d loaves. The flower is only a bud in which leaves are 
rhAJi;;^! into car|Kds, stamens, petals, and sepals ; these are the 
«-l«n.<nu of the fruit, composed itself of leaves folded back on 
ihiir !i!i.!dle nervure, and free or coalesced: free in the peony 
and btliok.i-o, coalesced in the orange and apple, llow does 
tlie mitnr.di.-t know that all floral on-'ans are only transformed 
loaves? i,y two nu'thods: observation of the normal state of 
plants, and tlie ptudy of anomalies or mon-trositics. Let me 
explain. The colored leaves found in the vicinity of certain 
flowers are called bracts. To prove theift analogy with true 

46 OrgaiiiG Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [January, 

leaves, it is enough to know tliat tlicy first jn-e?ent a green 
color, and then are gradnally tinged with a different color, as 
is verified by the lougain villea. Tlie sepals of the calix are 
only smaller, more closely set, or even coalesced leaves. In 
gentians and corn cockle, (githago segetuni,) so common in our 
wheat, this identity is striking. The same reasoning aj^plies 
to the petals. In some flowers, those of the cactus, water 
lilies, we know not where the sepals finish and the petals com- 
mence ; hence the petals are transformed leaves. In stare of 
Bethlehem we perceive that the filaments of the stamens are 
only reduced petals, and the fruits of swallow wort, hellebore, 
aconite, and peony are evidently leaves folded Ijack on them- 
selves, and bearing seed along their middle nervure. Proofs 
of another order exist. Sometimes, for reasons we do not 
understand, the transformation does not occur ; a sepal, petal, 
carpel remains in the leaf state. Nature betrays her secret, 
the observer catches her in the very act, and proves the essen- 
tial identity of the organ. It is not rare to see in peonies and 
roses, sepals of the calix in the leaf state. A double rose, a 
peony, a poppy, a double ranunculus, are flowers in which 
nearly all the stamens appear in the state of petals. The met- 
amorphosis is not aocomplislicd, and examining tljem with a 
little care suffices to show in them all imagiiiable intermediates 
between a perfect petal and a normal stamen composed of a 
filament and an antlicr. Carpels have appeared as leaves, and 
thus the transformation of vegetable organs is demonstrated 
by the nmnerous examples where it is not wrought. 

Goethe published his J\ftfamorphosis of Plants in 1790; it 
was not midcrstoud by his cotem}>oriirjes; they saw therein a 
play of the imagination. To the literati it was a prose poem, 
to artists a hint to thusc vvho compose arabesques. Xo one 
recognized it as a scientific work le^s arid than M'orks of that 
kind commonly are, but in which a few facts boldly generalized 
flooded science with a new light. 

Linnaeus and Goethe had pn>ved tlie metamorphosis of vege- 
table organs. Do Candullc, in his KU.'mejitary Treatise, com- 
posed at Montpelier in 161-', established the law of symmetry 
and those Avhich flow from it, tlic Ijahmce of organs and con- 
stancy of conuectiiius. I' very flower is originally symmetrical, 
that is, separable int^) two like part.<, whatever may be the direc- 

1SG3.] Organic Unity i?i AnimaU and Vegetables. 47 

tion of the plane that cuts it. Tet there exist irregular flowers 
whose symmetry is only bilateral. De Candolle proves that 
they are originally symmetrical but habitually irregular. Such 
is the linaria of the fields ; its corolla presents a face and is 
furni?hcd with four stamens. However, we find stalks whose 
fl.iwcrs return accidentally to the regular or symmetrical state ; 
tlie corolla becomes funnel shaped, and the fifth stamen devel- 
(»ps. The genus tencrium, or wild germander, is composed of 
irregular flowers like all that are lipped ; but there is a species, 
the tencrium campanulatum, whose flower is regular, symmet- 
rical, and furnished with five stamens in lieu of four. The 
normal state is, therefore, no more the habitual state in botany 
than in zoology. Every rudimentary organ proclaims the exag- 
gerated development of another organ, and this exaggerated 
development brings about irregularity; but the law of the 
balance of organs is never violated. The extreme development 
of the corolla in linaria and germanders is balanced by the 
absorption of the fifth stamen, represented by a slender filament. 
"\T'e can follow the course of these absorptions and hypertro- 
phies. All know, from their boyish recollections, that the fruit 
of the hoi*se chestnut contains only one great seed, rarely two, 
Ftill more, rarely thi-ee, and even four; but cut transversely 
the ovary of a horse chestnut flower during or a little after 
the period of blossoming, you will find three cells, each inclos- 
ing two seeds, in all six. Of these six seeds five sufter 
abortion, and the fifth, developing, becomes enormous. The 
abortion is constant but none the less abnormal ; the normal 
state would be'the equal development of six seeds. Here again 
the habitual state differs from the normal, which the naturalist 
demonstrates during the youth of the fruit. These atrophied 
or^'ans, that is, organs sufi'ering incomplete abortion, have the 
fiiinc «^ignifieance in botany as in zoology ; they are useless 
l•r^:»!i^, without functions, but they reveal Nature's symmetrical 
I' Thus in the family of scrophulariacea3 the verbascum 
btar- a Mgulur lluwer with five stamens; in the genera with 
an irregular flower, cheloneo?, scrophularia, there are only four, 
but the liftli ir- represented by a thin filament without an anther. 
The diorcian species, that is, those which have separate sexes, in 
genera where all other species are herma])hrodite, likewise 
present constant abortions ; thus on one stalk all the pistils 

48 Organic Unify in Animals and Vcgctahlcs. [January, 

suffer abortion, on another all tlio stamens. The lychnis dior- 
cia, so common in the fields, is a very striking example. The 
dwarf palms, whicli have the sexes separate, sometimes bear 
hermaphrodite flowers, indices of the normal state in these 
vegetables, though in the habitual state one stalk produces only 
male and another female flowers. 

Union or coalescence of organs is even more common in 
vegetables than in animals. All the organs of a flower having 
an original identity, all being only transformed leaves, we can 
conceive that they cnsily unite mutually; but it is not hard to 
prove their individuality. In a ranunculus, a magnolia flower, 
a lily, all parts of the flower are distinct and separate ; but in 
a bellflower, datura, tobacco, or petunia flower, we see the calix 
formed of five sepals united at their edges ; the corolla also is 
composed of five petals united in one, and the stamens arc 
united also with the corolla. They are mutually coalesced in 
marsh mallows, ])apilionaceous flowers, like the pea, kidney 
bean, common acacia, etc. The fruits of aconite and hellebore 
are composed of distinct carpels ; they are united under a 
common envelope in the orange, where each division is a carpel. 
In ribbed melons traces of tlie original separation appear on 
tlie surface ; they liave completely disap])eared in the pumpkin, 
apple, pear, etc. Sometimes the coalescence is not eft'ectuated. 
We find corollas of bellflowers and iietunias composed of five 
petals. Katurc surrenders her secret and' proves what inspec- 
tion alone had previously demonstrated. 

Situs partium consianiissiinus e.^t. The relations of parts 
never change, l.innanis had sai(l in liis Botanical Philosophy. 
Whatever nuiy be its metamor]ihoses, an organ always occupies 
the same place, and its situation indicates its nature. If a 
filament without an anther is.f lund in place of a stamen, we 
know that this filament is the trace of a stamen that has suf- 
fered abortion. This iixedness of relations is connected with 
symmetry which otherwise could not exist. TIjus, as we said 
at the beginning of this study, the same laws traverse, so to 
say, both kingdoms, and merit the name of general laws of the 
organised worlrj. 

Shall we admit in botany the iinnl causes which we prescribe 
iu zoology? Shall we iinilatc the imjtertinencc of the king of 
Arragon, who averred that he would iiave given the Supreme 

1SC3.] Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables. 49 

o-ood advice if he had been consulted concerning the creation? 
i<hall we say the leaf was made to .respire, the calix and corolla 
to ])rotcct the stamens and pistils? or, modest philosophers, 
shall We limit ourselves to proving the role tlicse organs play 
in nature witliout prejudging the object of the Creator? This 
part is wisest aTid most logical. It is true, in fact, that the leaf 
jK'urlv always performs the office of the lungs ; it respires, but 
often its functions change Avithout its ceasing therefore to be a 
leaf. Thus, in peas and chickling vetch, it terminates in a ten- 
dril and becomes a hand, which suspends the plant to surround- 
ing bodies. In broom-rape it exists but docs not respire ; it is 
n<7ne the less a leaf for that. What shall we saj of the stipules, 
little organs placed at the base of leaves in a great number of 
)-lants, 0})ening into a foliaceous limb in peas and chickling 
\ L'tfh, Irausfurmed into tendrils in melons, gourds, bryony, and 
liardeiiiiig into thorns in certain acacias of Australia. Their 
fundamental nature does not change, but their functions vary. 
It is affirmed that the calix and corolla are the protective 
organs of tlie stamens and pistils, that they secure fecundation, 
because the rain bursts the pollen seeds in proportion as they 
iscajjc from the anther, and thus accomplishes the abortion of 
the fruit and seed; but first, a large number of plants ai-e 
deprived of the corolla and even the calix. These envelopes 
when they exist do not always protect the pistils and stamens 
oHectually against the rain. I will cite roses, lilies, tulips, 
ranunculus, rock rose, etc. This protection is really efficacious 
only in bellilowers, where fecundation is accomplished before 
thf corolla is blown. This genus includes only useless plants, 
aii'i, by an antithesis hard to understand, the vegetables most 
iK-ce--ary to man, those upon which, so to say, the existence 
«'! thr human race depends, the vine, cereals, rice, maize, and 
Jnii! tn;e.i, have flowers whose stamens are in no way 
<K S".ii.lf.l against the severity of the weather. What famines 
\ii\x\ llic World been spared had cereals only been guarded 
like u>cltvs 1-cllthjwcrs! How often would the vine, pear, 
cla-rry, a:id piuch-trec have yielded fruit instead of remaining 
t^terile ! 

Direct experience confirms the data furnished by observation. 
We can cut off the calix and corolla before the flower blows 
and yet fecundation is wrought. Is this saying that the calix 


50 Orgaiiic Unity in Animals and VegeialUs. [January, 

and corolla arc useless organs ? Yes, if all that does not attain a 
practical end relating to the wants of man is useless. !N"o, if 
in nature we recognize the beautiful as well as the useful. The 
corollas are the adornment of plants ; they embellish all with 
their presence, as they fill the air with their perfumes ; they 
are the esthetic manifestation of the vegetable world, for man 
did not invent the beautiful; he found it in natur&, where it 
existed before him and would have existed without him. Wlien 
the ancients, the Moors, and liaphacl after them, would decorate 
houses, palaces, or temples, they selected plants furnished with 
leaves and flowers, and developed them into arabesques, con- 
tinuing thus by imagination the metamoq^hoses already realized 
in nature. The brilliant corollas are therefore useless flowers 
in the utilitarian sense of the word, but not in the artistic. 
They are useless, like the radiant colors and brilliant crests of 
birds ; like the gorgeous hues of the tiger, panther, and zebra ; 
like the lion's mane, the rainbow colors of serpents and fish, 
or those, more beautiful still, which adorn the butterflies' wings. 
Vainly is it pretended that these increase sexual attraction ; 
not at all so. That attraction is just as powerful in the spar- 
row as in the peacock; and 1 know not tliat dull-colored species 
multiply le^s than otliO's. 

Let theologians cease, then, to invoke final causes, and let 
them no longer give the word vsrful that narrow and material 
sense they have hitherto ascribed to it, under penalty of being 
condemned to say that the oak was created to make plank, or 
the cork-tree to fabricate stopples. Let their thoughts rise to 
serener regions. The orgiitiizod woild is an inmiense varied 
chant whose fundamental strain is found again at the bottom 
of all its variations ; thence results the harmony which charms 
and fills us with wonder. ^^Fan is neither the center nor end 
of creation, but he alone can cinn}>rehend it and bend it to his 
purposes. Among the beings tliat surround him, some are 
useful, some useless, some harmful in a practical point of view, 
none from an intellectual stand-point ; for all animals, all vege- 
tables, are a manifestatit^n of creative power, a realization of 
the ideal type that Nature lias reproduced under a thousand 
diverse forms. It is under this aspect that the world should be 
viewed. There is no useless being, for there is none which 
does not teach us something. 

1SG3.] Organic Unity in Animals and Vegdallcs. 61 

IV. Coiulniction of the Animal and VcgefaUe Type. 
All the organs of the vegetable being only transformed 
leaves, a plant may be reduced to an axis formed by the stalk 
and root, and supporting one or two leaves ; the type is fonnd 
realized, therefore, at the moment when the seed opens to give 
Irvine to the embryo. All subsequent organs will bo only the 
transformation of primordial leaves, which the botanist desig- 
nates by the name cotyledons. A simple plant has only one 
axis. A tree is an assemldage of individuals living on a common 
trunk ; it is a vegetable poh-pus. Each bnd represents an indi- 
vidual. The gardener who sets a slip separates one of these 
individuals from the common trunk and puts it in conditions 
such that it may exist independently and form in its turn a 
new aggregation, that is, a new tree. 

The construction of the Animal T}-pe is far from being so 
QS\s-\. If the inferior animals approximate plants, how far are 
the Fuperior ones, the Mollusca, Articulata, and Yertebrata, 
removed from them ? I must make a new appeal to the reader's 
curiosity, but likewise to his patience. I would like to give 
him an idea of the endeavors i^ut forth by anatomical and 
Zoological philosophers, to c(»nstruct this ideal type upon which^ 
all aninuils have been constructed. Their eflbrts have hitherto 
been directed to the vertebrata, as being the best known, 
though most complicated. The problem was propounded by 
Condorcct : *' To examine the relations existing between the 
different parts of the same individual, in order to deduce 
therefrom those two characteristics which nature seems to have 
impressed on all beings, constancy in type and variety in modi- 
lioation." Vicq-d'Az}T had indicated the path to be followed 
in hi:* memoir npon the comparison of the limbs. Their 
iUKil...jy, vaguely recognized by the ancients, was demonstrated 
by that illu>trious anatomist, and then pursued into its details 
by (IfT'ly, Bourgery, Cruvielhier, Flourens, Owen, Holmes 
CVk.Io, and the author of this study. It is universally admitted 
t<Mlay tli;it the base is the repetition of the shoulder, the thigh 
«»f the arm, tlie leg of the forearm, the torsus of the corpus, 
and the fi»ot of the hand. Toward the close of the last century 
a new analogy was ol'served, that of the head with the bones 
composing the vertelnal cohunn. Here again we meet the 
great name of Goethe inscribed over tlic entrance of this new 

52 Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [Januar}-, 

path opened up in tlie field of science. Diu'ing liis sojourn at 
Strasbiu-g, in 1770, lie had attended anatomical lectures, and 
froni this period, amid his literary pursuits, the study of com- 
parative osteology presented to him the most lively and sus- 
tained attraction. Camper having announced the opinion that 
the only osteulogic dilTorcnce between men and apes consisted 
in the latter having an intermaxillary bone, "while man has 
none, Goethe, already deeply penetrated with the principle of 
unity of composition in vertel)rata, set himself at work, con- 
vinced that this diflerence docs not exist. Loder, a professor 
at Jena, aided him in his researches, and in 17SG he proved 
that man has an intermaxillary bone unkno"\^^l before, because 
confounded with the two maxillary bones between which it is 
wedged in. Subsequently his studies and meditations on the 
metamorphosis of vegetable organs had prepared him for one 
of the greatest discoveries that philosophic anatomy can boast. 
At the beginning of May, 1790, he was at Venice. Walking 
one day at Lido, in the Jewish cemetery, his domestic picks up a 
sheep's cranium, and, laughing the wliile, presents it to him 
as a Jew's skull. Goethe looks at the base of this cranium, 
bleached h\ time, and, all of a sudden, its analogy Avith the 
vertebral column arrests him ; he has the intuition that the 
skull is only a continuation of the vertebral column, as the 
brain is only an enlargement of the spinal marrow. Goethe 
did not immediately publish his ideas, but he imparted them to 
his friends, particularly to Herder's wife, in a letter dated 
May 4, 1790. The honor of this great discovery, then, recurs 
to him ; but Oken has the distinction of having scientifically 
established and gcucndi/ed it, in his inaugural discourse on 
taking the chair of anatomy at Jena, in October, 1S07. The 
following year a I'rencbman, Constant Duniei-il, recognised the 
analogy of the nniscles arising from the trunk to the posterior 
part of the head v.ith those that connect the vertebra. Ke 
was proceeding in hi> turn t<j demonstrate the analogy of the 
head to the vertebra, when he was arrested by a jest. Cuvier, 
whom daring did lu.t plea>e, receiving Dumeril at one of his 
soirees, laughingly a.-ked about his tlunking vcriehra. Dnnu'ril 
had not the courage to persist in his opinion, continue his 
researches, and accumulate proofs. His name is connected with 
philosophic anatomy only by a souvenir. The analogy of the 

1SG3.] Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetalles. 53 

liead and the verteLra is now established, but despite the efforts 
of tlie greatest anatomists, Spix, De Ehiinville, Bojanus, Etienne 
Geollroy Saint llihxire, Cariiis, Duges, Owen, and Yircliow, 
tlie }>robleni is not resolved in its details; there is a difference 
resj>ecting the number of the cranial vertebra and the assimila- 
tion of the different parts of the head with the protuberances 
that bristle on an ordinary vertebra. 

The analogy of the vertebra and the cranial bones being 
established, the other parts of the system were studied in the 
same spirit ; fii'st were brought back to the spinal column the 
series of bones arranged in the front part of the breast, called 
tlie sternum ; this is formed of incompletely developed vertebra 
united with the vertebral column by the ribs. We sec in the- 
crocodile the sternum prolonged quite to the lower belly and 
sustained l)y the abdominal ribs, traces of which remain in 
man. The hyoid bone, which supports the tongue in superior 
animals, and the gills in fish, is only a detached piece of the 
et(.'rnum placed at the anterior part of the neck. Avertebrata, 
therefore, would be composed in reality of two vertebral col- 
umns, the posterior one comj)lete, the anterior equally complete 
in crocodiles, lin^ited to the breast in inammifers, wanting in 
^erpents and fish, where the hyoid bone alone remains. The- 
lower jaw, a movable organ, is composed of two ribs united in. 
I'ront, and the arteries that nourish and the muscles that move 
it recall the arteries and muscles of the pectoral sides. In 
llie articulata the organs of mastication are equally those of 
Jib^tion. In a lobster, a crawfish, every body can see a series 
•■•f organs, gradually modified, that form the transition from 
l';>\vr, to jaws. Hence the name ^;a2'if(?s maclioires (paw jaws) 
^vhich has been given them. 

^^ iiat is the morphological nature of the limbs ? Such is 
t..v nii.-t obscure point of philosophical anatomy. Some think 
ih«y liiul u series of vertebra in the diflcrent articulations of 
t!u- :ir!!i and log, others have assimilated them to the ribs; 
r"na> M.v in them a new organ ; and, as in vegetables we distin- 
gui-h an axi?, tu M-it. the root and stalk with the appendices 
nil formed of trin* or metamorphic leaves, so the animal may 
b<' rt-duced to a vertebral colunm furnished with appendices. 
The fin of the fi.-^h seems to nic the type of this ; it is composed 
ot rays like the hand of man, but in him and other mammifers 

FoLinn Skimes, Vol. XV.—- i 

5i Orcjanio Unity in Animals and Vegetables. [January, 

.the hand is earned by a mobile-jointed handle that constitutes 
. lelimb. In the inferior fish, as the lamprey, and m serpen ., 
Z limbs disappear, and the animal is really redneed to a ver- 
ttibral column furnished with ribs. 

• The philosophic naturalist can rise to a conception still moie 
..eneral These bones, these hard parts, the sole objec 3 ot 
ttudy Wtherto, have they all the importance that has been 
ascribed tothem? Their^harduess, their unalterabihty the di^ 
tinctness of their forms, facile to ^^^^f'^\;'^f'';^^^ 
drawing, have they not induced naturalists to attribute to them 
an exaV^^ted importance? Are they so constan as . 
assertedrand is not the deposition of the calcarem^s salts that 
hardens them often an accidental fact, a secondary circnm- 
stance? The cvclostamous lish, (lampreys, lampfish, mjxon. ) 
are they not -entirely destitute of a skeleton, while m turtk. 
Ihe sldi itself becomes hard? Do we not see t^e clavicle 
wholly wanting in some animals, (porcupines, hares, rabbits, and 
Guinea pi-s '') We find a bone in the diaphragm of the camel, 
, the llama,"and the hedgehog. These examples, given, with many 
others by Professor Charles Kouget, would lead to the concep- 
tion of an animal tvpe composed only of the elementary woo. 
of which the cellular, muscular, and osseous tissues are merely 
transformations. An animal would then be reduced to a diges- 
tive cavity surrounded by a muscular sac provided with appen- 
dices a^ the plant is reduced to an axis bearing leaves, ihis 
is the hio-hest abstraction to which the naturalist can rise, and 
:.the animal, like the vegetable, would be represented by a smglc 
tvpe, that of the organized being. ^ ^ . ^ 

'"The ulterior progress of botany, of zoology, of paleontology, 
comparative anatomy, and embryology will scatter all clouds, 
ibr each of these sciences contributes its part to the solution 
of these great questions. A new horizon appears to the view 
' of natu'-alists, the doctrine of the fixedness of species is shaken ; 
'no one still believes that they have all descended, each, from a 
.primordial pair. Darwin shows that they ^^on^tantly tend to 
; modification, and he is not afraid to utter the bold idea hat 
.live ideal tvpe of Goethe may well be the real tj^e of which 
.the entire anhnalkingdom is the infinitely varied realization. 
'^Ima^Mnation recoils before such a conception; it refuses to 
•bclie"N'e tliat even myriads of ages have power to modify to this 

18C3.] The Emotional Element in Hebrew Trandaiion. 65 

degree the posterity of a single organized being ; yet the bare 
enunciation of this liypothosis shows how profoundly the idea 
of nnity in variety is impressed upon the thoughts of all 
naturalists really worthy of the name. 


[second akticle.] 


TiiK emotional clement in Hebrew translation is often lost 
thrcugh a fear, sometimes an unconscious fear, of what is called 
nntliropopathism, or the ascribing to Deity the affections and 
mental exercises of humanity. The later Jewish commentators 
and translators were much influenced in this way. The men 
of the old Rabbinical school, such as Abenezra,' Maimonides, 
and others, excelled in learning most men of those times, 
whether Jewish or Christian, but they had lost the spirit of 
their old Scriptures. The truth is, their new-found philosophy 
had made them a little ashamed of the Hebrew stvle, so bold 
mid so uncompromising in its outward or phenomenal adapta- 
tion to the mijid of all men, of every nation, every class, and 
every age. Philo had first taught them to seek a vail for some 
'■' 't. bald literalisms. The Tahnudists, although thev Had little 
or no lellowship with the philosophy of Philo,^shared the same 
J.-].i,g ui respect to the Scriptures. The later commentators, 
-J w .iom we have spoken, had still more of it. Wonderfully 
\^'^y wore they as guardians of the sacred text, trustworthy in 
.'- n-l'^'^t degree as lexicographers and lexical translators, care- 
uj ... the extreme in their targumistic or traditionary interpre- 
tatiuns riTMl, therefore, are we the more surprised when we find 
J" tlu'tn Mcva-ional deviations from the bold and sublime liter- 
a i>m ot their own venerated lesion qodesh, or '^ holy tongue:' 
it IS this tear ot anth'n.popathism to which their new philosoph- 
''^al studies seem to have made them peculiarly sensitive. 
iienee, God cannot "speak to Moses," as he does, or seems to 

56 The Emotional Element m Hebrew Translation. [January, 

do, in the old text of the law ; he cannot " dwell," literally, 
'*' in the tents of Shem ;" he does not " come down to see what 
the cliildren of men are doing" in the plain of Babel, as 
though he were ignorant of the design of these bold tower 
builders. This might be offensive to tlie Platonizino; followers 
of Philo among themselves, or it might expose their Scriptures 
to the cavil of the learned infidel, and, therefore, these philo- 
sophic Rabbis, who '■' feared the Lord while they served other 
gods," who revered Muses while they swore by Aristotle and 
the Axabian schoolmen, interposed the shekiuah in such pas- 
sages, though with little conception of its profound import, or 
an angel, or some voice, or attribute, or physical power of Deity, 
thereby marring not only the emotional power, but that deep 
theology which is only found by adherliig most closely to the 
divinely designed literalism of the text. 

All translators"'- have been more or less affected in this way. 
Sometimes it nuiy have hardly risen to consciousness, or it may 
have been more of a feeling than a thought distinctly formed, 
and yet the elTcct is very manifest. Idiomatic expressions 
especially suffer in sucli a translation. The offensive style 
seems to be avoided, by smootliing over the peculiarity of lan- 
guage, if we may so describe it, leaving no trace of anything 
but the general and more philosophical form of the thought, as 
it would be called. 

And yet nothing is gained by this, even on the theory of 
such translators ; for their own amendments are but the substi- 

* There is no vcr.-:iou of Uie Pentateuch in the main more faithful an.l accurate 
than the ono made by the Arabian Jew, commonly called Arabs Erpenianus, from 
the mamiscript having been first brought to light by the learned Orientalist 
Erpeniiis. Its exact date is not known, but it is doubtless very old. It is literal 
even to a fault, and yet we are now and then surprised by just such cases of 
accommodation as are above mentioned. Tlio translator manifests none of this 
squearaishness in regard to any of the mo<:t minute details of the ceremonial law; but 
in the 7/jn?:.nfr of its comm\inication. and in tliefetting forth of the divine appearances, 
he seems afraid, at times, te) k-t it .>;peak for itself. Tins is the more strange, because 
elsewhere the literal version i.sall the more clear and beautiful from its beiug made 
into a cognate tongue, sullcriug easily an exact transfer of idiom. As passages in 
which this e.-pecir.lly appears, may bo mentioned Genesis ix, 27, Exodus xxix, 45, 46. 
In the latter passage instead, of saying, as lloscs has it, '• I will dwell in the midst 
of tlio chUdren of Israel," this Arabian Jew translates, "I will cause my light to 
dwell in the tents of Israel.'' The Targums arc aflected in a similar way : especially 
the later cues. 

1SG3.] 'The Emotional Element in Hebrew Translaiion. 57 

tution of one anthropopatliism for another, and the Bible still 
abounds in others, whose bold and direct expression no artifice 
of translation and no generalizing of language can avoid. 
Thus to take a very prominent example involving even the 
^vlK>lc essence of this mighty question, God is said to rememlcr^ 
and even to be reminded. It is a mode of speech that meets ns 
often and in its most direct form. This faculty, so very human, 
is ascribed to Deity, sometimes directly, sometimes as implied 
in the language of prayer. There is nothing in the Scriptm-es 
more touching : " Thus saith the Lord ; I remember thee, the 
fondness of thy youth, the love of thine espousals, when thou 
wentest after me in the wilderness, in a land that was not sown." 
Jer. ii, 2. Here is not only memory, but the pathetic particu- 
larity of memory, the tender reminding circumstance. It ^vas 
when God was alone with his people "in the barren wilder- 
ness:-' it was " in the day of their espousals." In the similar 
mnemonic appeal. Genesis ix, 15, there is an ineffable sublimity 
connected with its deep pathos. The Infinite comes down to 
the finite human sphere. God vails himsclt* in human concep- 
tions. He takes not only om- voice, om- words, but our 
thought, our feeling, not simulated merely, but truly thought, 
truly felt, even as we think and feel. With deep sincerity, as 
man talking to man in solemn covenant, he appoints an express 
memorial, a cheering mnemonic sign, made constant in the 
very heart of the visible nature, and assuring us that we should 
never be forgotten : "And the bow shall be in the cloud, and I 
icill looh \rpon it., that I may remember the everlasting covenant 
between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon 
the eai-th." 

Not less wondrous is the representation than the inefl'ablc 
truth M-hich it presents. Shall we say that this is a mere simu- 
lul..-d eundoscension? Did Moses believe that Deity thus truly 
tulked to men, thus thinking as they thought, and conceiving 
after thfir manner of conception? He who wrote this knew 
ihrit <.i...l w:i.s infinite, as well as Spinoza or the seven wise men 
of G\fuv<]. The coiicejUion" that represented to him the idea 
was as v;L-t, the emotion as living and as spiritual ; for he had 
heard the voice from the I A'Sl proclaiming his eternal, iude- 

* Wo mean t>y tliis tho emotional conception, which is wholly independent of any 
ecJence, the same for Abraham, David, and Socrates, as for La Place. 

58 TU Emotwnal Element in Rebrew Translatio7i. [January, 

pendent, unoriginated being. He knew tliat God vras absolute, 
unconditioned, intinite ; for the finite, tlie limited, ever must 
have form ; but God is unrepresentable, ti-anseending all form, 
all limitation in space or time. There is nothing like him in 
the heavens above, or in the earth beneath ; the world in its 
totality can no more image him than any of the partial forms 
or energies of nature. All this is expressed in that wondrous 
precept given so many ages ago to the chosen people : " Take 
ye therefore good heed unto yourselves, for ye saw no manner 
of similitude on the day when the Lord spake unto you in Horeb ; 
take heed unto yourselves lest ye make the simihtude of any 
X figure, the likeness of anything on the earth, of anything that 
flieth in the air, of anything that is in the waters, and lest thou 
lift up thhie eyes unto the lieaven, and worsliip them, or the 
hosts thereof." Dent, iv, 15-19. He, too, who writes this of 
the covenant and the bow, and God's looking upon it to call to 
remembrance, is the same who first gave the world those sub- 
lime epithets. El 01am, El Shaddai, El Elion, Eternal, 
Almighty, ]\[o>.t High,— older than all time, stronger than all 
might, higlier than all conceivable altitude, whether of knowl- 
edge, space, or rank. And did he feel no contradiction when 
he describes the eternal as thus speaking to the human concep- 
tion, and tlirough the human conception ? Is the language 
real ? That is, does it represent a real transaction, as real on 
tlie part of God as on the part of man % Or is it a pictorial 
condescension, a sinmhited accommodation to human weakness, 
even as a father talks to his young children in words and figures 
that are but the faititcst reflex, or rather but the representative 
symbul, of his matured and manly thought. Even as thus 
received, revelation is still most precious. It assures us of a 
father's heart, though it be far away, and its eternal pulsations 
so faintly reach us though far-oft' telegraphic signals. Is it 
mere acconmiodation % Even then should we thankfully receive 
it as such, and be accommodated l>y it, taking it in that literal 
way which God lias designed as best adapted to comfort us, not 
seeking to get above it, or saying it was made for a simpler and 
less j)hilusophical age, or att'ecting in any way to be wise above 
wliat is written. 

But may there not be, after all, a reality in it, a reality jper 
se, a reality in its relation to the divine as well as the 

1S03.] The Emotional Element in Ilel/rew Trcmslation. 59 

huiiuui mind ? ]\ray not God come actually into the human 
hjihero and the human finity ? j\[ay he not thus, if it pleases 
him, tabernacle in the human memory, kno^nng things as we 
know tlicm, feeling them as we feel them ? For unless he thus 
know them as we know them, and feel them as we feel them, 
tlitiv would be a knowledge unknown to him as it really is, 
tli.'tt i.-, as it exists in our mind; and so the exclusion from all 
true commimion with the finite, as finite, becomes a limitation 
to infinity itself. May God become human, truly human ? The 
un:«wcr is given not only in the historical incarnation of Christ, 
hut throughout the ancient Scriptm-es. He docs come into the 
liuman sphere ; he does thus finite his infinity, and, therefore, 
may we believe that in truth and reality, and not merely in 
s^'eming condescension, does he speak the language of the finite 
iL-i coming truly out of the conception, the hnaging, the mem- 
ory of the finite. The idea so far transcends our tliinking that 
we cannot say that it involves a contradiction in reason. On 
the other liand, there seems to be, at least to our minds, a 
necessity for it as the only mode in which we can conceive of 
any finite knowledge in God at all. But if it do not involve a 
contradiftion, then who shall dare to say tliat the Almighty 
:ind Infiuite One, he "who can do all things," cannot do this ] 
Who ^hall say that God may not thus become finite, and even 
human, M'hile still remaining infinite? Who shall say that he 
cannot, if he wills it, think as we think, conceive as we con- 
c«ive, feel as we feel, and remember even as we remember r 
^Vhat right has any finite mind thus to limit the infinite under 
'ho pica of maintaining it ? lie who has received into his faith 
v.a: ii..ctrine of the incarnation has embraced the whole mystery, 
wal iJOL'd not be afraid to apply it fearlessly in the interpreta- 
'"' n uf all t^cripture. This anthropopathic language is sonic- 
thisi;: horo than the feigned talk of the father to his child; but 
<'Vvij i!i tliat ciuse there is a reality beyond the feigning. The 
\i^•^u'T irnly. for the time, takes the mind of the child; he 
."J- ak^ Hut iiiiMvly the child's language, but his own language,. 
cxpn-.v-ing exactly the childlike conception to which he lias 
limited him^clt; but which, in its germ, had truly existed in his 
manly thought bufore he liad thus voluntarily assumed the. 
thought an«l the oiiiotion of the lower childlike sphere. 

Man was *' created in the imaire of God." How full of 

60 The Emotional Element in Uehrcw Tfanslation. [January, 

boundless meauiug are these remarkable words? Through 
that image it is tliat he sees eternity lying all around his fmite 
being. lie has a glimpse of the everlasting light " that lighteth 
every man comiiig into the world." lie has a ^-ision of the 
immutable ideas. lie beholds them as in a glass darkly, yet 
still as the most real of all entities. Though marred by sense 
and sin, the dimmed reflection mirrors still for us the Absolute, 
the Eternal, the Almighty, the Infinite. A falsely humble 
modern philosophy denies to man any such ideas, or concejytions 
iis it most unphilosophically styles them; but it is enough for 
us that Scripture boldly appeals to them as the ground of lim- 
itless trust as Avell as loftiest reverence.* Man was made in 
the image of God ; Init in the converse of the proposition there 
is a truth for us of no less impoilauce. God, too, may take 
the imago of the linman, and tlui> see the finite, we may boldly 
say it, through the finite spiritual organs. lie may think as 
man thinks, conceive as man conceives, remember as man 
remembers ; and it will be a true thought, a true imaging, 
a true memory. Thus Gutl ficrs the rainbow, and. rememljers 
the rainbow. He sees it with the eye of sense. lie sees it 
indeed in another way transcending this— in a way ineffable, 
of his own — even as it lies in the totality of nature and causa- 
tion. He saw it, as he still sees it, in the primal powers of the 
light and the water ; he saw it in the first matter of the uni- 
verse; yea, in the aiitemundune }»otencie3, as it lay away back 
among the " unseen things from which were made the things 
that do appear^ And thus it ever lies in the everlasting thought. 
He sees it ever a-; rnnvun-ov^- in it- law and its idea; he sees it 
also as (})aiv6nei'ov^ the hQ-M\Ut\\\aj)jK:arance that first shone:}: for 
our earth in the sky of tlie delnge, and as it has ever since 
spanned the heavens of ea(.'h disjH'rsing storm. These words 
of the covenant are *• faithful and true." lie does see it just 
as we see it. " And the 1,)0W shall be in the cloud ; and I laill 
loo?!-' upon if, that I may remcmV)er the everlasthig covenant." 

* Jub .\liil, 2: ••IkiK'W that thou fa:i.~i do nil things." Jlt. xxiii, 24: ''Do 
not I till hftivou ari'l .'artli ?' I-ai.ih Ivii, la: " H-i inhabits eternity." Psalm 
cxlvii, 5: " Hini iui'k-r>t:\iiilin.; ii iiifiiiilc," (without number.) 

■f Hebrevv.s xl 3. 

X It is not ilifl'ioult to believe- tliiit this was the tlrst earthly occa-s'i'on of the rain- 
bow's vi-ibility, ami yet holJ that it.s causation lay among the primal things of 
.nature and creation. 

1>^03,] Tlie Emotional Element in Uebrcio Translation. 61 

Ix-'t us not, througli any transcendental evasion, deprive onr- 
Hclvos ot* the confidence that is surely intended in language so 
rxi>ressi'd, and in a promise so given. There is no feigning in 
it. We can separate the language of fact from that of symbol 
or niofaplior. Every sober mind does it intuitively. But there 
!•> tu» appearance of metaphor here ; and wo see that this is 
riiluT the style of sincere assurance, or it is a designed and 
u^.rtldcss fable. A mere figure of speech, as when hand is 
used for power, whether as applied to God or man, is detected 
at once by the merest child in the Sunday-school. But here is 
no iigure that we are made aware of by any law or usus loquendi 
of language. All is real. Let us so take it, and every time we 
H>c the rainbow, let us cherish the precious thought that God 
pces it too just as we see it, not merely in its hidden causation, 
but iu its glorious, outward visibility. Let us not fear to think 
tiuit lie too is looking upon it and rememhering, even as we 
reincmber what we liave seen and felt. Let us not lose all emo- 
tion, as we lose all thought, by rejecting this carefully chosen 
language of revelation : " That I may rememher the everlasting 
covenant that is hetween God and every living creature of all 
f'nh ihnt is vj)on the earth.^^ The bow is placed in the cloud 
!'"r that very purpose. Is it the language of accommodation ? 
'.ve would not quarrel about the M'ord ; but then we say again, 
lot us not be too wise here, or refuse to be accommodated by it. 
This ascription of memory to God seems to be a favorite 
mode of expression in the Scriptures, and to be especially 
M?lucted for its peculiar pathos. It occurs frecjuently in the lan- 
•-Miiigo, of prayer. It is a peculiar feature of those divine litur- 
u'ii's \vliich have been expressly framed and placed in Scripture 
Tor our use and our benefit : " O Lord remember me ;" " O 
fi:u«uil)er that my life is breath." Job vii, 7. "Remember 
!'"w tran-^ieut I am." Psalm Ixxx-ix, 48.* Compare with this 
IValtn Ixxnii, 39: "He remembered that they were flesh, a 
br>':iTli tli.-it goes and comes not back again." 

.'-onset iiiics it is with a particularity which seems almost like 
t!ie lauguagc of expostulation. It' might be regarded as 
* ".n r,*:, •' My pafising, flowing, gliding life." Such is the primary sense or 
ir;:a;rr« of the word. Valft iriotum lahricum et celerem. — Gescnins. Unde et vitoe 
i'-'-l'-i'^ jl'ixum et C'lilwHia. It is used of tlio worUl, or tlio present hl'e, Psalm 
3v;i, M : " \i^^xi of Ilekd,'' '• men of tiiis life." So the Arabians call the present 
worl-1, " the rolling," " the hastening." So noafioc, " Its fashion passeth away." 

62 The Emotional Element in Ilehrcw Translation. [January, 

impatience, or even irreverence, were we not taught in the Scrip- 
tures tliemselves that God loves thus to be reminded of his 
promise, or of those events which have created a peculiar near- 
ness between himself and his chosen people : " Remember, O 
Lord, thy former mercies ;" " Remember the days of old ;" 
" Remember the reproach of thy servant." Again he is reminded 
too of his righteousness and his righteous vengeance. It is 
a prayer to be seldom used, but for which there may be occa- 
sions in the treatment of one nation by another : " Remember, 
O Lord, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem." Psalm 
cxxxvii, 7. Esau was Jacob's brother, and Edom was near of 
kin to Israel, yet did Ihey rejoice in the dismemberment of the 
Jewish nation and the destruction of Jerusalem : " Raze, raze 
it," they said, " even to the foundations thereof." Does not 
this come naturally to mind, and may it not rightly enter into 
our prayers, when we think of the treatment we are now receiv- 
ing from a kindred people unnaturally exulting in our calami- 
ties, hoping for the destruction of our confederacy, and whose 
voice, as it comes to us over the waters, seems ever saying, like 
Edom of old, " Raze, raze it, even to the foundations thereof?" 
" Yengcance is mine, saith the Lord ;" but there would seem to 
be times when it may be thus mcmorially appealed to as well 
as his mercy and his giace. 

Still more pathetic is such language in its negative form, 
representing God as ceasing to remember ; as though the great- 
ness of the mercy so filk-d the divine thought that vengeance 
was lost in its infinity, or the glory of the atonement so " cov- 
ered'^ oV/'" the sin that it disaj^pcared forever in the transcend- 
ing brightness. '*i*ut me in rcmembruuce, saith the Lord ; let 
us plead together: declare thou, that tliuu mayest be justified: 
I, even I, am he that blutteth out thy transgressions for mine 
own sake, and will not remember thy sins." Isaiah xliii, 26, 25. 
" After those days, saith the Lord, I will M'rite my law in their 
hearts, and I will be their God, and tliey shall be my people ; 
for I will forgive tlieir initjuity, and tiicir sin will I rcmemher 

* Libraries might be lilieil wlili tlic- lx)ok.s writtcu on tlio atonement, the nature, tlie 
design, the philosophy of iho aiunt-riiont ; but wo may wtU question whether they 
all together contain as imieli thought and emotion a.s is to bo found in the etymo- 
logical-iiiiportof the Ihbrow "^fZ, to cover. Sin is covered, hidden, lost sight of in 
the brightness of the propilialion. Compare Phulm xxxii, 1 : "The man whoso sins 
are covered o'er." 

1S03.] The, Emotional Element in Uebrew Translati&n. 63 

no vwreP Jer. xxxi, 33, 3 Jr. We have the same remarkable 
luji-^'iiage in the prayer of the oppressed and penitent people 
of GckI, Tsalin Ixxix, 8: "0 remember not against us our 
former sins ; quickly let thy mercies go before us, for we are 
very ])oor." In this latter passage there are, moreover, two 
htrikhig Hebraisms which we cannot pass over without notice. 
Oiu- is in tlie thought or figure : " Let thy mercies go lefore us^^'' 
like ft trininphant host or banner of defense, ut pnceundo 
irniant in lioste^ : Yenema. Alexander renders it, " Let thy 
mercies meet us;" but this does not lexically express the 
1 lebrew verb, nor give the spirit of the passage. It is tlie idea of 
'' mercy rejoicing over judgment." It is the ever-ready, ever- 
waket'iil attribute tliat starts up immediately when invoked, and 
fr<ks forth as a vanguard against the invading foe. Hence there 
is b.erc admirably joined with it that other Hebraism which 
consists mainly in the form of the expression. It is the infini- 
tive u.sed adverbially, and not the imperative, as some would 
en]>pose, *'r,?2"j?'' ^ni^ ; " Quick, let thy mercies march before 
us:" cito anticipent nos misericordia3 tuae, quia paupores facti 

The examples given might provoke the sneer of the infidel 
caviler, or they might be excused by the biblical apologist as 
Rceonmiodations to an unphilosophical age, or as a merely rhe- 
torical mode of speaking, or God talking to men, mere humano ; 
I'Ut all this is very far from sounding the depths of the ques- 
tiun. Memory is no more human, no more anthropopathic than 
knowledge, or the knowing of finite things as finite, as we have 
alrvudy shown. Those who make the objection, then, or who 
I'iK'logizc for this and some other partial forms cJf the usage, 
uavf little thought how far it goes. Carry out such objection, 
"!'d it makes any revelation from the Infinite to the finite, 
l!in.ii:.'h any language, through any signs, through any human 
t v.uu'ht., uttered, suggested, or inspired, not only impossible, 
b:jt uturly incapable of being thought or conceived. A7e should 
!>'■.■ til.- iruih squarely and boldly. As well speak, we say, of 
(k"1 r< i\ //i/ )i,f>,n7u/, as of his thinking or knowing. The hyper- 
I'lMtuni-ts would maintain that both, as acts, must be finite, 
partial, aiul below that transcending hypcrnoetic region 
Ml which dwells for evermore the motionless, timeless, change- 
h'cri thought of Deity. All thinking in succession, all knowing 

Gi The Emotional JSlement in ffebrew Translation. [Januaiy, 

of tilings as finite or separate, the only way in wluch we can 
conceive of thought and knowledge, are necessarily human ; 
and if God have not the liuman, as human, as well as the infi- 
nite and properly divine, then thesci states, affections, or powers, 
call them what we will, are utterly excluded from the divine 
being in any sense conceivable by us ; that is, as far as we are 
concerned, in any sense at all. God knows lis not, even as we 
know him not. He can no more penetrate our finity than we 
can rise to his infinity ; for the knowledge is inseparable from 
the manner of Icnowinrj ; or, in other words, the state or man- 
ner of knowing is a part of the very thing to be known. It is 
the knowing our knowledge, as well as the object or thing we 
know. If God cannot know this, even as we know it, then 
there are some things in the universe of being which are to him 
not only unknown but unknowable. 

In essence, therefore, all these states and exercises are alike 
anthropopathic. In degree, however, memory seems further 
removed from the properly divine, or the transceudingly divine, 
as we may call it, inasmuch as it is not only finite, partial, suc- 
cessive, relational, Init seemingly, if not really and wholly, pas- 
sive. This is shown in M'hat seems a very general law of 
language, though not without cxcei)tions. Ycrbs of memory are 
mostly deponent, middle, or passive. In English we employ 
an active form ; but the Greek and Latin are more true to the 
unconscious logic, the silent yet i)0werful law of the soul. Wc 
Bay, to remejnhtv, as though it were pure action, depending 
wholly on the will. So we also say, to forget, as though we did 
something in forgetting, although it is hard to conceive of any 
state, affection, or change in the mind more purely joassive. 
But our language never had a true development. The Latin 
words are deponent, the Greek words are middle and passive. 
llecordor reminlscor, fiqwrjuai^ literally rendered, I am remind- 
ed, it C07nes into ray mind; or, (jn the other hand, it escapees 
me, or in some other manner dilHcult of expression in English, 
but which represents the mind as either wholly passive, or as 
having but a partial, middle, or refiex action. The Hebrew 
verb commonly rendered to rcjnember, has, indeed, the active 
form ; but this is because its primary sense, in all the Shemitic 
tongues, and esj^ecially as it appears in the more active conju- 
gations of the Arabic, is narration, or the causing others to 

1S()3.] The Emotional Element in Helrrew Translation. 65 

reineinbcr, or it is recollection, (a gathering up and binding 
t«.>gt..'tlier,) rather than memory simply. To express this in all 
its strictness the Hebrew has other forms, such as that remark- 
able one, ri \.-3 n';>, to " come up in the hcart,^'' to " ascend in 
and upon the mind,'- as though proceeding from some uncon- 
sci.iu.s depth or reservoii' of thought, or some involuntary rising 
of tlio soul. This strange language is several times applied to 
Deity, though it denotes, in such cases, that which is not 
tliotiglit of, rather than that which is not remembered, as in 
Jeremiah viii, 31 :' " They have built the high places of Tophet, 
(liat they might burn there their sons and their daughters in 
the lire, a thing which I have not commanded, which never 
came up in my thought" — a thing too horrid for the divine 
mind to receive or retain. Compare also Jeremiah xix, 5 : 
*' 'i'hat Mhich I never uttered, which never came up in my 
mind." Vulgate, nee ascenderunt in cor meum: It is also used 
ino.~t expres-sively for memory, Jonah i, 2 : ^;&)d twn nn^Ji, 
'• l'\>r their wickedness hath come up before me,"- 

The Hebrew verb for memory, or remembering, acquires a 
distinct passive form in the Syriac and Chaldaic, thus coming 
t'» ri'.^-m])le formally as well as virtually the Greek and Latin 
iiu.flo of exi^rcssing the idea. There are, however, cases in the 
old language which show the eamc tendency as controlled by 
ibis general philological law. Thus Hosea ii, 19 : " And I 
will take the names of Baalim from her mouth, and they shall 
roMiembcr their name, tD>:ds 't'j '^'^'z)'] ^b\ or be reminded of 
thi-ir name no more." The subject of the passive form here is 
P' r-'-nal, while the word for name is made the object with the 
prvi»u^ition 2, like the oblique or genitive case after verbs 
<'f i!iomory in Greek and Latin. 

1" I*-alm ciii, 14, we have a very remarkable example, whose 
J- '•wiiarity, in this respect, is obscured, or rather wholly lost' in 
our tnin^iation. There is used, not the Niphal, as in the 

• n.Ji .'.riki:- Hebraism, n^ J5 n;:!, is fouud in the Greek of tho New Testa- 
m< uu \S V hwa a Vfry touching example, Luke xxiv, 33, where it is ai)i)lied to tho 
«hou:/hta vrJiioh "aro>o in tho mintls " of tlio disciples -whea Jesus stood suddenly 
in « ho midst, allor they had been listening to the strange story of the two who had 
jounu-yed to Ernniaus, aiul whoso hearts had "burned within tlicni " through an 
».':"Xi,hcab!..- fiynii.athy witli their unknown f.-Uow-travekr: " Wliy are ye troubled, 
fiJil why du thoiijiits ascend in your souls?" uvafiaivovaiv Iv ralg Kapdiaig v/iuv, 
Co:i!o up out of the depths of your memory. 

QQ The Em<>tional Element in Ilelyrew Trandation. [January, 

example above, but the passive or past participle of the Kal con- 
gregation : " lie l'nov)eth our frame ; he rememhei^eth that m'c 
are dust." TSt is the Hebrew word. Some have regarded it as 
an imperative, and it is so put down in Fuorst's Concordance ; 
but there is no warrant for it. Our translation disregards the 
peculiarity. So does Eosenmiiller. Alexander renders it 
mindful^ regarding it rather as an adjective than a participle, 
and as denoting a permanent state of mind. This, indeed, par- 
tially takes away the anthropopathism,* as may have been 
thought desirable, but in so doirig there is destroyed that which 
is most effective and touching in the passage. Yenema has the 
same fear. He notes the strangeness of the form, and renders 
it still more strangely, acrl mentis vigcn'e poUentem^ as though 
it was intended to denote a transcendingly divine, instead of 
such a human state as heing reminded, or jpid in mind of . But 
this is the precise thought presented to ns in this passive form, 
and here lies all its moving pathos. The rarity of the form in 
Hebrew ought, critically, to suggest something rare in the idea, 
some emphasis of thought or emotion that might not otherwise 
be attended to by the readcr.f Even in the more ordinary 
modes of expression there is uineh for tlie thoughtful. In the 
examples pre\'iou>ly (pu»ted, how sublimely, as well as how 
tenderly, does God come down to us. He remembers, as we 
remember. He puts himself, liis own eternal reason, his own 
eternal thought, at once containing us and all things else, side 
by side with our poor finite minds and memories. " He remem- 
bers us.-' l>ut licrc is a still deeper pathos, which our English 
translation, beautiful m> it is, has not brought out. Literally, 
" He is reminded that we are dust." It comes into his mind, 
it "ascends into his lieart." A universe is under his law. Tf 
it is not the modern space notion of the kosmos, it is that higher 
and grander kingdom wliich was expressed in the ancient idea 
of time worlds, and of ever ascending ranks of being. He is 
Melel^ Olamim., (rsalm cxlv, 13,) the "king of the eternities," 
(3aaiMvg t(x)v uiu)vo)v. He is Jehovah of hosts. Lord of angels 
and archangels, thrones, dominio)is, principalities, and powers. 
All these, with all nature, and all physical worlds, lie ever in 

* So Geier notes tlic poculhirity : Do Deo hoc usiirpatur per anthropopathiam ut. 
Psalm Ixxviii, 31). 

f It is from such a deiniind of (inpluisi.s that all idiomatic expressions, or 
departures from the usual mode, uriio. 

ISOS.] The Emotional Element in Hebrew Translation. 67 

his total, changeless idea ; and yet, far down, and far away, 
tlicrc comes this thought of man, as of something which had been 
for a moment lost in the care of his vast imperimn. He " look- 
cth down from his holy heavens." It is a glance at the poor, 
toiling worms below. We seem to hear a voice from the Infinite 
whispering to us assm'ance and reminiscence. The depth it 
reaches reminds ns of the height from which it comes. " Am 
I not a God afar off?" "Do I not fill all things?" And yet 
am I very nigh unto thee, nearer than any other soul, nearer 
than thine own thoughts ; " Fear not thou worm Jacob ;" I 
remcmlicr thee ; " I will keep thee, saith the Lord, and thy 
Kcdeemer, the Holy One of Israel." How false and absurd 
tlie common cavil that the Old Testament is the harsh and 
unfeeling dispensation as compared with the Xew ! How is it 
refuted by the gushing tenderness that so often breaks forth, 
even amid what seem to be its severest reproofs ! 

"He knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are dust." 
It would seem as though there were silently conveyed here 
K)methi ng like self-reproach on the part of Deity; as when 
God looked at the flood-drenched earth, and there came up, 
'• there ascended into his heart," that touching remembrance of 
our M-eakness and depravity. " And the Lord smelled a sweet 
savour;" it was the fragrance of the offering of faith that 
ar<.»>e in the burnt-offering, as a memorial before him ;' " and 
the Lord said in his heart, I will not again curse the ground 
any more for man's sake ; for the imagination of man's heart 
is evil from liis youth : neither ^nll I again smite any more 
f v<ry living thing as I" have done." It was as though, accord- 
in;; to another impressive Hebraism, " His heart smote'him." 
I>«>w Pueh a representation degrade the idea of God ? It is the 
only way, it may be repeated, in which we can be aided in the 
at!i-nipt to measure his infinity. We may use all sorts of phil- 
o--.pliK-:il attractions, or logical negations; we may talk, as 
wt' will, of the infinite, the absolute, the unconditioned ; they 
are the right words, admirable words for their philosophic or 
j>nrc!y al^r-trart uses, but in regard to emotional efiect they are 
j)owerlcss. Thoy move us no more than the limitless exhaust- 
it»ns or the endless analytical series of the mathematician. The 
Scripture takes the other method; it brings the infinite into 
our fmite sphere ; it lets .down a ladder from heaven to earth, 

68 The Emotional Element in Jlelrew Translation. [Januaiy, 

and the tender revelation made to us at its finite base reveals, 
by its very lowliness, the ineffable height from which it has 
descended. Had the heavenly messenger assumed to talk to 
us philosophically, or in any select or partial dialect, we might 
well have suspected it of imposture. This transcending height 
of the divine mind is all the better thought by us, so far as we 
can think it at all, from the believed fact, (and what scientific 
argument shall prevent our believing it,) that aside from God's 
infinite idea, or along with his infinite idea, as it includes the 
all in its changeless unity, he can also, when it pleases him, 
think the finite, and come down to the finite, truly and per- 
fectly, even in its lowest finity. " Our God " is greater tlian 
the impersonal deity of a pantheistic science. Because he is 
infinite and almighty, thcrefiire it is that he can do this thing 
which seems to limit his inlinity. Because he is so ver^- high, 
therefore it is that he can stoop so low, even to " the humble 
and contrite spirit,'' while yet remaining evermore the "lofty 
One that inhabiteth eternity, wliose name is holy." Because he 
is very God, thereftre it is that lie can become very man,"- 
without losing the immutability and impassibility of the divine. 
But let us dismi.-s tlie infidel cavil, and proceed with the 
more pleasing work of vcrljal criticism. " ZTe? Tcnoivcth our 
frame.-' Cognovit the Vulgate has it, and it is an admirable 
rendering: '*lle confesses, he recognizes.^'' It is the plain 
Hebrew verl) r-p, nut speculative knowledge, or philosophical 
intuition ; not the a jn'iori l>eholding of effects in causes, nor the 
a posteriori tracing of causes in effects. God doubtless has 
all this in an infinitely liiglier degree thaii man, but the Hebrew 
verb here used does not intend it. It is the 'ordinary or more 
purely human knowing. It is simply the recognition of a 
fact, a noting something as of touching interest. " He know- 
eth our frame," our fas/i ion ing, our lowly material. The divine 
memory goes back to thai account in Genesis ii, Y, the noun 
here and the verl) there Ixing the same radix: "•irz^i, "And 
Jehovah God frairad man dust of the earth." He well remem- 
bers our first fashioning, our lowly physical origin, that is, 
"according to the fie:^ll." It is enough for us, this bare 

* Envriv eKeiLjac—- Ho cniptir.l himsdf." In this straDge expressiou, 
rhil. ii, 7, we have tlie vory doi-Ui of Uu.- uiystory, whether as presented iti tlio 
incaruation, or in the general onthroiKipathisuia of Scripture. 

1SC3.] The Emotional Element in Ecbrew Translation. CO 

allusion to the eartlily human, whether it be to each iiidivid- 
iihI muTi as fornied in the maternal Avomb, (for in reference to 
this too tliere is used tlie same word, T^"^, Jcr. i, 5, as though 
tl>e one <roneration was as divine and as marvelous as the otlier,) 
or to the creative process of the first material humanity from 
iMut!n.'r earth, or as it is so strangely expressed, Psalm cxxxix, 
•' in the lowest parts of the earth,""^ de j)rofundissimis tcrrae, 
from tlie most interior or profound of nature. This is enough 
for us, so far as the emotional effect is concerned — this recog- 
nition of the fact; and yet we need not bound the divine 
tliuiiglit in itself, or regard it as not going beyond this earthly 
fact into the ineffable process and the ineffable idea. The 
lower sight does not exclude the transcending vision. ''His 
eyes did sec our substance, (om- primal matter, our law and 
i:«--nn,) nnd in the book our members all were written in tlie 
ilaytj tliey were fashioning, (the same word again, '■,'i:::i t:"?;'^) 
when tliere was yet no one." 

Tliere is tlie same touching thought of remembrance, Job 
xiv, 10. It has the deeper pathos from its reference to the far 
future, wlien not only tlie earthly '• places that now know us 
^llalI know us no more," but even nature shall seem to have 
forg. .ttcn us : '• Thou wilt have regard to the work of thy hands." 

A\ hen we lie buried deep in dust, there is an eye that never 
loses sight of us. From tlie beginnino: unto the consummation 
oi the ju'ocess, from the first breathing of the organized human- 
ity until' its glorious reconstruction, God has ever "regard to 
thi:^ work of his hands." Xothing can be more affecting than 
the ])n>kon, sigliing, soliloquizing language in which Job utters 
i.!- hope tliat lie who formed his human body, He who per- 
mit^ Satun to destroy it, will yet '' appoint him a set time," will 
: « t •• rniii'iiiber him." The words are ejaculatory ; they run 
lik«« a broken, murmm-ing stream ; sentences and verses having 
a ]-'gJ<-al connection are parted by the utterance of anticipa- 
tory cMintiuns; but amid it all it is not difficult for one who 
\n.wr^ iiiiM-clt in the subjective position of the mourner to 
;ju!lur up the fnignientary thought. Few are the points in the 
pi'.-turc, yet how mournfidly vivid when rightly grouped 
togotlicr. JIow lung, as well as how minute, this memory of 

• Tlie other interproration of this pocnliar langiia;ro. which makes "the loweat 
I«rts of the earth "equivalent to "this lower world," is far from satisfaetorr. 
FuuuTii Sekies, \o\.. XV.— 5 

70 The Emotional Element in Jlehrew Translation. [January, 

God ! Time, though of immense length in the conception, 
seems of no account, ^t is a vision of ages. Mature has gone 
on witli her mighty change, "the flood lias ftiiled from the 
sea," ''the mountain crumbling tails, the rock is removed from 
its place, the waters wear the stones, tliey wash away the 
things that grow out of the soil of the earth." One might 
ahnost fancy it the language of our modern geology. But dur- 
ing all this time " man lieth still and risctk not." " Until the 
heavens grow old," (sec Psalm cii, 27,) and nature is in that 
last decay -which precedes her renovation, the slumbering body 
" waketh not, nor is roused from its long sleep." But it is not 
lost to the divine memory. " Thou wilt have regard to the 
work of thy hands." "We know that otiiors interpret this pas- 
sage differently ; but we can take no other view. The whole 
context sliows that the language is i)r«.»mpted by the hope of 
some future reviviscence -' after a long imprisonment in Sheol, 
whether we understand by that word the grave as the abode of 
the body, or some gloomy, shadowy spirit-land, in conception 
so near to death and utter dissolution tliat the soul longs to be 
delivered from it. " O that thou wouldst lay me up in Sheol ! 
O that thon wouldst appoint unto me a bound, and then 
remember nie I" The sudden upspringing hope gives birth to the 
prayer, and then follows the ejaculation, which is but the emo- 
tion of wonder at the conception it has called forth: "If a man 
die shall he live?" It is not a denial, not even a doubt, but a 
solemn, musing, soliloquizing query, as of a soul believing yet 
struck witli the greatness and strangeness of the belief. " If a 
man die shall he lic<:f^ 'J'he cniplia.-is is on the contrast, and 
this appears from the abruptness and strongly disjunctive ac- 
■ceutuation of the Hebrew sentence.f Must a man die to live? 

* It ia not so much tho motk-ru idea of llio rosurrootion, as the old Arabian 
beliof of a reaovation, a cyelicul n-newin;,' of the world and man, such as seems to 

•have been iu tho miud of tho i'siihnist, cii, 27, whero by nC^irT^ -is evidently- 
denoted the "change'' of renewal alter d<-cay, just as this same word is used of the 
regermitiatiou of tiic plant. Job xlv, 7, (if it U cut (loiva, Vi'^zn'^ "5^^, it shall bud 
ajain,) aud Psalm xc, 0. This ai.eieut Oriouial dootriuo of cyclical renovation is 
most fully aud learnedly diicusr-ed by I'arcaii iu iiis book l)c Xotitli^ luvnortali^ 

'talis ac Vit(ie-/ularae ah ahti'iuUsimo Jubi Scriptur'i adhibitii. It is a troatido of 
rare occurren-.-o and of rare nn-rit. 

t n^n-n '■O'X rT2"> ex. Tl.e paniclo in .TTl^n is more properly the H cxclam- 

:atory than the interrof,'aiive, aliliough it may include boUi. There is unquestion- 

.ably an expression of t-urprlso or wonder: "Ah I if a man die, shall he livol" 

1863.] The Emotional Element in Hebrew Translation. 71 

I^ (leatli, indeed, the way to life? Then "all the days of my 
appijhitod * bound will I -^rait until my change,! (my ns'^bn,) 
my revivisccnce, come. Thou wilt call and I will answer 
thee, tliou wilt long for the work of thy hands/' Blessed be 
God for tiie anthropopathies of the Eible! There is not in all 
Scripture a more tender word than the one here employed to 
cxj-rc.-s the continuance of the divine interest in the mouldering 
liuman remains : fern, " Thou wilt have a longing desire." It 
denotes that intensity of aifection which makes the face grow 
pale with care and watching. The places where it occurs are 
few but most significant. It is used in I^iphal (Gen. xxxi, 
30) for the feeling of homesickness, Jacob's fainting " desire 
for his fathers house," '^•^::54 n'^ni nrcors r,cr:. We have it in all 
its inimitable tenderness. Psalm Ixxxiv, 3, where it expresses 
the name feeling made holy by being directed to a higher and 
holier home, or to its appointed symbol here on earth : 
-rr:: r;ri:s ta r:£::r:, '■''Longs, yea, faints my soul for the courts 
of the Lord ; my fiesh and my heart cry out for the God of 
my life." Such is the word that is here employed in this 
remarkable soliloquy of Job to denote the intensity of the divine 
rciiiciubrance of man, God's longing desire to bring back his 
b:ini-hcd,:{; and to deliver the pious dead, who, though lying 

* "X-'J would be literally militia mea, "my warfare," my term of military 
^■rvioe. Take t!ie figure, however, as we may, it is evidently explanatory of 
?n. or "apj>o:nted bound,"' in the verse before. 

f Coinpfiro Paul's u/./.ayr/aouEOa, 1 Cor. xv, 51, 52. 

X 2 Sam. xiv, 14: "For we must needs die, and we are like water spilled upon 
tJiv jrround wliioh cannot be gathered up again ; yet God doth not take away tho 
»• i'.. (- c ni;vr:_'in.) but he deviseth devices that his banished (HTj, driven forth) bo 
tuix cii>i>Ik.d from him." If wo take the ordinary interpretation, it is diflficult to 
•r^ any force of areuraent in this as applied by tlie woman of Tekoah to tho case 
<-<.' t;.- ».:iniv.hed Absalom. Wo have, therefore; often thought that it contains ono 
</ii;v*o iiiiimations of a c-ommon Jewish belief in a post-mortem state which meet 
u» Uni tmd ihore in that reserved book the Old Testament. They are all tho more 
.'■■ r-.-A I' from their comin^^ upon us thus incidentally, as it were, or by surprise. In 
0..m f=.-i-''.ico t'jft fsrprcssion, "we must surely die," (Ileb. ril*:; V''^.) is regarded 
Ij Jsrvhi &A a confession of tho primeval sentence, Gen. ii, 17. In this ho favors 
ll:t> i.!.*;i of a ]-j!-t-mortem allusion, and thus reirarded, tho application is most 
n.nkiu;». I.i.'t iho baui.^hravnl hero bo rofurred to tho banislimcnt of the grave v.-ith 
UiP hopt. of n.-call or delivcrancp, and there is a clear and cogent argument from 
the proat^T to tho l^ss. The -common interpretations, of which tho reader may see 
• '"nj? list in Poole's Synopsis, have come from tho prejudged view that such a 
Uioujflit could not possibly have had a place in tho mind of a Jew of that age, espe- 
c.tuiy one of the common or lower class. But what evidence is theio to support 

72 The Emotional Eminent in Hebrew Translation. [January, 

ill Hades, according to the primal sentence, are still "bound 
up in the bundle of life.'" 

Li the holy breathings of the devotional Scriptures there is 
precious evidence, not frequent, indeed, but unmistakably clear 
when it comes, that this thought had power for the souls of the 
pious, the thought that God remembers the dead. The holy 
dead, at least, still " live unto him."' '• They abide in the secret 
of his tabernacle ;" they rest under the shadow of the Almighty ; 
they arc safe in the divine memory, although they have 
had to suffer the ancient penalty, and to go for a season into 
that banishment which it demands of all. 

There is an awful reserve in the Old Testament about this 
whole doctrine of a future life ; but this only renders more 
precious the gleams that now and then come to us from over 
the dark river of death. [Nfost scanty indeed are they, yet still 
such a prejudice ? Thtrc are clear hints wliich enable us to affirm that the evi- 
dence is the ether way. There was not, indeed, a distinct doctrine of a bodily res- 
urrection ; but there was still a " beincr for the dead." The superstition of the 
Oboth, aud'tiie story of ilic woman of Endor, i.s sufhcient proof of the common 
notion Uius far. Bui more than this, it was believed that the dead, the pious dead 
at least, still "lived unto God," that is, existed in some such relation to him as in 
that other rcmarkabl.- ex]ire?.-ion above quoted from Abigail's words to David, 
1 Samuel XXV. 20 r •' But the ?oul of my lord shall be bound up in the IvndU 
of life, 2"""" "i""^!;, with tlie Lord thy God." This passage tlie Jewish commen- 
tators refer without hesitatiou to a post-mortem state. Rabbi Tanchum explains 
it at length as denoting tlio state of the pious dead, blessed indeed, yet still not 
made perfect and still unabsolved ; while tlie " casting out of the sling" in the same 
passage, describes the turbulent unrest of the wicked, "who are violently driven 
forth, while the righteous hath hope in his death." Prov. xiv, 32. The word 
here for driven furlh, n"; or nm, is the same as that employed 2 Samuel xiv, 14, 
being rati. or rare, and, th'.rofore, lln; more j-jouliar and cmpbatic in both cases. 
The hope of the nghtcous, on the other hand, would bo the hope of recall or deliv- 
erance from banishment, or, in other words, that "God would not leave his soul in 
Hades," or give it up to the dominion. of Ifados. lie lies down in submission to 
the primal sentence, but hopes for absolution from it when the Redeemer descends 
into ITadc-s. R:.bbi Tanelmm Cijn..hide3 liis long comment by noting that the dec- 
larations are placed in Ihj mouths of woni.ju, the best preservers of the traditional 
or popular belief; and hence infers the superiority of the Jews to the more learned 
and philosophical of other countries. The lile of man " bo'vid up in the hnr.dle 
of life, with the Ljrd Aw G'l'-i, " the glorious idea of mutual relation contained in the 
common Hebrew oatli, '' As the Lord liu'-th and as thy soul Uveth ;" truths like 
these, which elsewhere only present tb.emselves to the highest minds, if they aro 
felt and known at all. are hore the property of the common mind, manifestum vd 
viuUerih'MS. Hcnco he argues, tiw, how well the Jcw.s were entitled to the praise of 
that declaration, Deut. iv, G, " Surely a wise and understanding people is this 
great nation.'' — MaiiwiniiJUs Porta Jlosis, 92. 

1SG3.] Th^ ErMtional Elerrient in Hebrew Translation. 73 

liaving more to awake tlie soul to thought than all the particu- 
luritv to be found in the Greek accounts of Hades, Tartarus, 
and Klysuun. There is, as we have said, little or nothing tliat 
can 1)0 called definite or positive about another world, or any 
each clour view as Christianity has brought to light ; but there 
arc a few ideas with which we cannot fail to be struck, as form- 
inc: constituent elements of a sentiment that was ever growing 
into a more and more settled faith. They differ from tlie dis- 
tinctively Christian ideas, not so much by being in opposition, 
as by giving that more somber aspect of the great doctrine 
which it was to wear until the coming of the Prince of Life. 
These sadder, less hopeful, but by no means hopeless, features 
may be thus stated : Death is a sentence, never losing its penal 
aspect; it has the appearance of banishment, violent for the 
wicked, but hopeful for the pious ; hence the post-mortem 
Ftatc immediately succeeding is not a desirable one ; it is 
mourTied over by the good, as is done by Hezekiah and in 
some of the Psalms ; it is imprisonment, though with the ideas 
of wardship and security ; it is unknown and gloomy ; it is a 
land of silence ; the degree of life and consciousness is uncer- 
tain; sense, and the memory of the present life seem some- 
times to be regarded as greatly in abeyance, if not wholly sus- 
pended ; it is an appointed time to be patiently endured ; it is 
ever awaiting for a great deliverance and a great Deliverer ; 
and, finally, the most precious thought connected with it is, 
that the soul still rests in the divine remembrance ; or that, 
wliatever be the nature of' the separate life, or whatever the 
degree of its consciousness, it is still a " living unto God." 

To this idea of a return from banishment, it has been thought 
thert' is a reference. Psalm xc, 3. The primal sentence is there 
c«-Tt:iinly kept in view : " Thou turnest man to dissolution, and 
ihoii ^:lvo.^t■, return ye children of men." There is evidently 
jntrndod an impressive paronomasia in the double use of the 
Vfjhr-r. The second application of it may mean a turning 
Jruin du-t, as the first, doubtless, denotes a turning to if, as 
cinjO.ycd in the original sentence of condemnation. Hence 
the Kpisc.'i»al Clim-ch Psalter, following the old Latin Version, 
(mv/-^V/u*/«/,) rendL'rs it, ''Come again ye sons of Adam," ye 
t'hildren of the earth. So Luther's expressive translation, 
Koinmt wiedcr menschenkinder, " Come back again ye chil- 

74c Illyrian Literature. [Januaiy, 

dren of men." There would seem a tautology in regarding 
the verb snrj, in each case, as referring to the same turning, 
besides makiug the command follow the execution : " Thou 
turnest man to decay, and thou sayest return.'''' It may, indeed, 
have both senses, and may have been intended to bear both, 
according as it appeals to om* humility or our hope. 

" Lord, what is man that thou dost so remember him," — 
man physically allied to all that is lowest in creation, — man 
■who " says to corniption, thou art my father, to the worm thou 
art my mother and my sister." True it is, that spiiitually he 
is " made in the image of God ; " he is allied to the imcreated 
and the eternal; but it is in his physical as well as in his spirit- 
ual relations that God remembers him. The hyperplatonic 
scorn of the body has no warrant in the Scriptm-es. " Thou 
wilt long for the work of thy hands." God remeriibcrs the 
crumbling body as well as the undissolving soul. It is the 
whole of man that lie loves ; as in the case of those who are 
saved it is tlie M'hole of man that he remembers unto salva- 
tion. This is the M'ondrous anthropopathy that we have been 
tracing in the Old Sci-iptures. It is not merely an incidental 
accommodation, but a designed incarnation of a divine thou"-ht. 
The Bible is a book of contrasts. Its writers betray no sense 
of inconsistency in setting forth, sometimes in closest conti- 
guity, the melting goodness, the inexorable severity of God ; 
they seem to charge of paradox when they present, 
and, sometimes, in the same vivid picture, the vileness and the 
sri'eatness of man. 


Many and various are the accounts thaf have been given by 
the different nations of tlie creation of the world, its relations 
to the other bodies in the heavens, and tiie formation on its 
surface of continents, mountains, oceans, and rivers. As to the 
mountains, the inhabitants of Montenegro have a summary way 
of disponing of the question that relieves it of all difficulty. 
They represent the Aliniglity ad an old man walking over the 

1SC3.] Illyrian Literature. T5 

cartli, just after lie liad created it, with a bag of rocks upon his 
hhoulders. These rocks he distributed iii the various lands, 
tlius funning the mountains. When he was passing over their 
country the bag suddenly tore open, and all that remained in it 
fell out, and hence the origin of the vast mountains of rock 
wliicli tlicy inliabit. Like a giant among the neighboring 
raIlge^?, aVIontencgro rises far above them all. A wild, untamed 
race dwell among its cliffs ; and there, secure from invasion, 
tliey have never been subdued by the Greek, Latin, or Ottoman 
forces. The Montenegrins are a section of the great Sclavic 
race which occupies more than half of the territory, and com- 
poses full half of the population of Europe. 

Li speaking of this people of Asiatic origin dift'erent authors 
do not always use the same terms, and hence we see in their 
works at times obscurity and even apparent contradictions. 
"Witiiuut deciding upon the terms so variously used, we shall 
ftim sim]>ly to be understood. In the " great emigration," per- 
liaj^s in the time of Semiramis, a vast tribe of the Shemitic race 
left their liomes in the East and settled in what is now the 
southern part of Russia in Europe. They were fii'st kno^^Ti 
under tlie name of Scythians. With a system of government 
and social order essentially democratic, and a popular energy 
that has not been undermined by luxury, nor broken by long- 
despot ism, they are just beginning to be recognized as an im- 
lK)rtaiit element in Europeaii politics, in which, for a long time, 
they have actually' taken a prominent part. The most ancient 
record that is made of the Slaves as an independent people 
reaches 1)aek to the time of the Emperor Justinian. Theophilus, 
till- preceptor of this prince, assures us that* his pupil was uf 
Helavic origin. Indeed, the name of Justinian, and that of his 
aueoturs, go to confirm this assertion. It is not,, as Gibbon 
tTn.ntHJusly asserts, " of Gothic, or rather of English origin." 
Juxtiuiaii was called among his own countrymen Upravda. 
The ^<-liivic word Pravda corresponds to the Latin word Jus, 
lit Jiutttui. The letter U is only an aspirate prefix. After- 
ward, at one time joined with the Bulgarians, they threatened 
the exi^tenco of the Eastern Empire, and for thirty years con- 
tested tlie power of Basilius, the Ihdgaricide ; and again in the 
fourteenth century Stephanus, tlie emperor of Servia, went to 
attack Constantinople with an army of over eighty-live thousand 

76 Illyrian Literature. [January, 

well-disciplined soldiei*s. Steplianus died of a fever in Thrace, 
and the enterprise failed. In the eastern and central parts of 
Europe other 1) ranches of the Sclavic race have acted important 
parts in liistorj since the fifth century. 

This great Scythian, or Sclavic race, may be considered as 
separated into four grand divisions, the Hussian, the Polish, the 
Bohemian, and the lll}'rian, (or Servian.) Then* four languages 
have the same relation to their Sclavic origin as the modern 
Italian, French, Spanisli, and Portuguese have to tlie. Latin, 
The Pussians have adopted a modification of the Cerillian, or 
Sacred Alphabet ; the Pohcmians, and the neighboring tribes in 
Prussia and Saxony, the German letters ; while the Poles, and 
lately the Illyrians, use tlie Latin letters. As the Italian is 
more intimately allied to the parent Latin than its sister lan- 
guages, so the Illyrian may be considered the representative 
branch of the ancient Sclavic. It is indeed termed the Sclavic 
by some native and most foreign writers. It is the mother 
tongue of most of the inhabitants of the southern part of the 
Austrian empire, and of the northern part of Tm-key in Europe. 
The various dialects spoken in Illyria, Croatia, Sclavonia, Mor- 
lacca, Dalmatia, Bosnia, and Servia, do not differ from each 
other more than do the dialects of the spoken language in the 
different provinces of Italy and Spain. So slight is the dif- 
ference? that the inhabitants of the various lands often designate 
by their own name the language of all the tribes. Compared 
to the others, the Illyric (Servian) is hke the Tuscan to the' 
Italian, or the Attic to the Greek. It is rich in words and 
phrases, full of elegance and euphony, of light and easy move- 
ment, yet nervous=and dignitied in ex]»re>sion beyond its Sclavic 
Bisters. Hence the cdiu*ated classes among them use the term 
Illyric generically, representing the whole. All the literature 
and school-books, periodicals and other printed matter, are pub- 
lished in this dialect. It will be the language of the Sclavic, 
or Illyric state that is cither joined to Hungary or is to become 
a separate nation of itself, in the resurrection of the races that 
is now throwing so much confusion in the midst of European 
politics. The problem of the Orient can only bo fully and 
iinally settled on the biusis of recognizing the Sclavic nationality. 

The geographical position of tliesc people has been a serious 
obstacle to their advancing in any of the elements of civiliza- 

1SG3J Illyrian LiUrature. 17 

tion. Their land has been the battle-field of nations and 
relijrions. After a destructive war of one hundred and sLxty-five 
years they were conquered by the Romans. The barbarians 
povcral times invaded their dominions. The Greek and Latin 
Cliurehes here met in conflict, not so much for this particular 
rririon as to obtain control of the lands beyond. Here has 
bi'cn the border ground where the Turks sought to gain an 
(iitniuce to the nations of Europe. That any literature should 
be developed under such circumstances would be a matter of 
groat surprise. Yet we find at Eagusa, one of the chief mari- 
time cities, an extensive library, and a university that ranked 
n.s one of the best in Europe till the Avari rushed down upon 
the city and burned the greater part of it, including the library 
and the \uiiversity. Eagusa has ever been, till very lately, the 
••liief seat of Sclavic learning. Zara, the capital of Dalmatia, 
now claims that distinction. Several of the faculty of the 
Gymnasium at Zara are deeply enlisted in the work of regen- 
erating their native country. Professor Danillo is at the head 
of an organization that is diffusing a large amount of informa- 
tion and many stirring appeals to the liberal party. ITis feel- 
ings are so deeply enlisted in the movement that he is almost 
rt-stlcss unless when engaged in it. The prudence, caution, 
and bravery required of one in his position entitle him to more 
than the honors of the battle-field. AYhen we parted, after 
^jmc weeks spent with him, he shook the writer of this article 
warmly l.)y the hand, and, speaking of iVmerican liberty, he 
f aid, •• We too shall be free !" 

Kugusa, liowever, retains much of her ancient prestige. To 
"!!•- of its citizens, Marino Ghelaldi, is attributed the merit of 
h.iving fii-st applied Algebra to Geometry, and the analysis of 
<-tirv4.--. Spilla Eetina, a mathematical experimenter and alche- 
im«t, wv.rkod many years in a neiixhborinir cave. Amons; other 
a'-nu-vfjiivnts he succeeded in setting fire to some small vessels 
Nuth r^Mlectors, like Archimedes. The cave is to this day 
termeii the " Cave of the Magi.'' Several ancient writers on 
medicine lived here, where observations on the symptoms and 
trcatiiieut of di.-eases are still in good repute. Givichino Stulli 
dif.l in 1.^17, aged eighty-seven years, having devoted half a 
••cutnry to writing and perfecting his " Illyrico-Latino-Italiano" 
I>ietiouary, which he published in two oc tavo volumes. Affect- 

78 niyrian Literature. [January, 

ing indeed is tlie dedication by tlie good old man : "... At 
the age of eighty years, fifty of which I have spent amid long 
watchings, and expensive travels to enrich my new Dictionary, 
nothing do I now desire so much as to be able to publish it. 
There had not as yet appeared the least ray of hope that I 
should see accomplislicd this my chief desire. All the circum- 
stances of the times and the place seemed to oppose this great 
enterprise. And now you give me the inexpressible consola- 
tion of seeing accomplished, before I close this mortal life, this 
object toward which have been raised incessantly the chief 
desires of my heart." — (Addressed to Marshal ITarmont, of 
Kagusa, by whose aid the Dictionary was published.) 

Another liberal-minded gentleman at Eagusa, some thirty 
years ago, gathered together an octavo volume of poems, written 
in niyric by natives of that city, and also published an Italian 
translation of most of them. Tlic subjects are various. A 
large number are Iji-ics of beautiful sentiment and line expres- 
eion. Many are love songs. In all there is nothing trivial, or 
scarcely anything mirtlifiil. Occasionally the poet breaks out 
in the more dignified pentameter, and discourses at length of 
military prowess and lieroic deeds of their ancestors. The 
movement is frequently stately, and some times quite grand. 
But these were never very widely circulated among the people. 
The circmnstances were unfavorable. They were also written 
in Cerillian letters, and hence were illegible to the common 

This Cerillian alphabet was invented by Cerillo, a native of 
Salona, who went as a missionary to the Sclavic tribes in the 
fourth century. Finding the peuplc ^v•ithout a wi'ittcn lano-uao-e 
he invented an alpluibet — from the Greek, Hebrew, and Latin 
languages — that rfpi-e^entc-d all tlie many and peculiar sounds 
of the Schmc tongue. It is called by Eichhorn the most perfect 
alphabet in existence. It contains forty-two letters. Cerillo 
translated part of the New Testament, and some of the works 
of the fathers of the Church. Tlie alphabet is difficult to 
master, and its use is confined mostly to sacred books. There 
are in the Illyrian several vowel and consonant soimds that do 
not occur in the other Euro]»ean languages. Its structure is 
very philosophical. Tims, for twcnUj^ they say two tcm ; thirty, 
three t<'ns ; and in numy cases the system of its word-buildino- 

5503.] Tllyrian Literature. T9 

it* fuundcd upon nature. The verb receives many inflections, 
or conjugations, the modification of a single vowel in the 
inidJlc of a word giving a great difference in the signification. 
The noun lias seven cases, and, like the Greek, has a dual 
nunihiT. Its sound, as pronounced, may be defined as midway 
bcfwtL-n that of the German and the Italian. 

JiuL the circmustances at Eagusa were unfavorable to the 
development of a truly national poetry. It was in too great 
commimication with Italy, and absorbed enough of the spirit of 
that country and of its literatm-e to have a pm-e native tone. It 
wiu^ also too much disturbed by invasion and almost constant 
fear of destruction. TTe must seek among the mountains for 
that freedom of feeling which alone can foster the true spirit 
of poetry. The principal center, where are found the best 
lllyric poems, is among the mountains of Montenegro. There 
hiis sprung up a noble form of heroic poetry, which afterward 
is repeated by the people of the valleys in their peculiar dialects, 
thougli modified in a few unimportant particulars only. In the 
plain country, grand poetry, and particularly the more rare 
heroic songs, are in little favor. Instead of them the people 
yw-A^vv the poesy of fables, lyric songs, accounts of fairies, vara- 
I'iros, and specters. The very existence, manners, dress, and 
Eocial order of the Montenegrins have an atmosphere of poetry 
about them. There is no aristocracy of wealth or rank. There 
13 no true central government. ^Var is declared by popular 
conscTit rather than otherwise, either by a single tribe, or by 
all in concert. The women do all the work.; the men are only 
warriurs. Their dress, as well as many of their costumes, 
havf a marked resemblance to those of the clans of Scotland. 
Having never been conquered by Christian or Turk, they pride 
ih<ni,-.c-lves in tlieir nationality, and the heroic deeds of their 
ai»c.--t«..r6 are handed down from generation to geiieration in 
\KH.\n> (.f great spirit and beauty. In a lighter form they have 
inuny M.nnets and beautiful legends which liave been handed 
tluwn from tinie immemorial. 

They liave many elements of a mythology that needed only 
lime, a little more physical prosperity and seclusion from other 
nations, and i)articularly from the intluence of Christianity, to 
l-Ki perfected into a system as complete as any the world has 
ever teen. Even Christianity is vested at times with a mytho- 

80 * ' Tllynan Literature. [January, 

logical cliaracter, and the saints and angels are endowed witli 
sucli attributes and powers as heathen nations vest in their 
deities. These legends and poems are rehearsed, or sung, by 
blind beggar bards, as in Ilomeric times. In Sclavic, the 
words signifying poet and beggar are the same. The memory 
possessed by these bards is very remarkable. They will repeat 
an entire poem, of over two thousand verses, without varying a 
single line, or even a word. 

To hear their wild singing gives one a peculiar feeling that 
cannot be described, or imparted by writing. Their voices, 
which are frequently rich and clear, are accompanied by an 
instrument called the ''(/uzla.-^ It is composed of a single 
string of horse's hair, stretched upon a piece of wood, and 
touched with a bow of the same material. It gives a singular, 
somewhat feeble, and mon<.)tonou3 soimd. The bard sometimes 
narrates the historical, or narrative parts, in prose, or gives an 
abridgement of them, and then sings the impassioned passages 
in poetry, accompanying tliem with the music of the guzla. 
Occasionally he breaks out in impromptu invective against 
some false lover, or traitcr to his country. Xothing of the 
farcical satire, or comedy, i^ seen in any of their songs; but 
tliere is mucli of the ]>laintive, and, at times, even of tlie sad. 
Calnmess, gravity, and the heroic element greatly abound. 
The blind rhapsodists think it derogatory to their dignity to let 
any too light pleasantry, or coarse jokes, escape fi-om their lips. 
Of the few popular Illyric tongs tluit have been translated to the 
German, Grimm says that '• they will awake the wonder of all 
Europe." '* Their songs of l nc have a poetic feeling so clear and 
profound that thoscof no niudcrn people can compare with them." 

The women, in their miserable huts, or on the edge of a rock 
watching their Hocks, or returning home to the villages in the 
evening, lighten the fatigue 'oi their weary task by singing of 
the joys and sorrows of their lives. ]Many of these are impro- 
vised ; others, called '' Songs of the AYomen," are heard only 
within the dome.-tic walls, or in the little clusters of children, 
or the older girls. Occasionally poor and blind old women 
gain a livelihood by rehearsing them from house to house. 
To gather these songs of the women is a work of extreme diffi- 
culty, for these blind jjit-ndicants will rarely sing before a man 
who has the appearance of a foreigner. 

1SC3.] niyrlan Literature. • 81 

It is, indeed, difficult to collect the pieces sung by the men. 
"When thcY are persuaded to sing before a stranger they 
fro<]uently prctvr to show the powere of the voice, running 
li^litlv over tlie words and repeating the parts in which the 
niurfic appears to the best adyantage. The longer pieces are 
Jrt(jiK-nt]y sung in a recitative manner, accompanied by the 
L'u/hi, giving the narrative parts in prose. Of course, these 
must be reporUd by short -hand, and the reporter must be 
pomewhat acquainted witli the language, otherwise several 
writers must be ready to catch tlie words as their turn comes 
around. Tlie difficulties of this method arc very apparent. 
Tlie distinguished Illyrian writer, Yuk Stcfanovich Karadjich, 
lias made by far the largest collection of any yet gathered of 
all varieties of this literature. Yuk is now seventy-four years 
(.]<1, and luvs spent the greater part of his life in philological 
labors in his native language. Besides several minor works, he 
has published an excellent Illyrian Grammar; he has modified 
the Coiillian alphabet so as to make it more available and less 
(•umpHcatod ; he is also the author of an Illyrian Dictionary, 
of a translation of the l!sew Testament and the Proverbs of 
.'^ul.^iuon, of a history of Montenegro, and the materials for a 
history of Servia ; and finally, has published several volumes of 
Illyrian poetry. lie relates some of the difficulties he met 
with in gathering these songs. The old men frerjucntly spoil 
tla-ui (sometimes apparently by design) by their incorrect man- 
ner of singing them. The young men will rarely sing them at 
all, saying in a rage that they are not blind ! These difiiculties 
'-|"(;ially attend collecting the "Songs of the "Women," Ho 
Jinally persuaded a child to sing some of them before a young 
bdy who would correct his mistakes, and thus, after indefatigable 
\:\\^>r, lu! gathered four volumes of these. Yuk was indebted 
f-r t!ie hn-gest share of liis collections to an old rhapsodist 
'.vli-.tu lie found in the greatest misery. He gave the old man 
i-l-'tliiii;: jiiid fuod, placed him in a convent, treated him as well 
as pa?-il»K', and finally gathered from him over a hundred 
pvH ms ami a hirgo collection of romances. 

Aftorwanl, bi-ing sent to the court of ^lilishio in Servia, he 
Ktn;:ht through the aid of that prince, who had a great love for 
p'K-try, though he could not M-rite his own name, to gather 
together all the rhapsodists of the country. The prince ordered 

82 ■ Illyrian Literature. [January, 

the most distinguislied of them, Miliin by name, who conld repeat 
to perfection the whole of the " Marriage of Cernojcvich," to 
be brought dead or alive. Milim was too old and too much 
weakened by the wounds he had received in his brigand mode of 
life, and could only >ing after gre*it draughts of brandy. When 
once commenced lie would let no one interrupt him, for once 
interrupted he would neither commence again nor continue. 
The gentlemen of the court of Milishio looked with surprise 
upon so much labor in gatliering SQugs so plebeian, and laughed 
both at Yuk and his singer. Finally they persuaded the poor 
bard to believe that Yuk was making him the sport and bufloon 
of the court, and one line day the poet escaped and it was 
impossible to nuike him return. Another of the best rhapso- 
dists whom Yuk consulted was a brigand by profession, vrhoni 
he found in a prison, where he lay for having killed a woman, 
a sorceress, who had bewitched his son. Yuk succeeded, how- 
ever, in gathering characteristic specimens of all styles of 
Illyric poetry. His tine collections, added to what others have 
gathered, leave but little lacking for a complete summary of all 
that is worth preserving. 

A strong feeling ibr nature pervades all their poetry. The 
nightingale is sacred to lovers. Tlie trees sympathize with 
man, feeling his griefs, and giving him consolation in his mis- 
fortunes. The waves of the ocean dash against the rocks, and 
leap with joy at good news. The dove is the messenger of 
love, and bears to mortals the tiding-s of saints, prophets, and 
patriarchs. They speak of many beings like vampires, fairies, 
and gho?ts. The YiU is a species of nymph, inhabiting mount- 
ains, forests, and rivers, predicting the future and aiding war- 
riors in battle. They are beautiful in countenance, and -snth 
disheveled hair and light, airy clothing ; and travel with a vola- 
tile motion, now on a stag and now on a cloud. Some are 
good and propitious to men, and others are evil. 

Fraternal love is lu-hl very sacred an<l inviolable, more so than 
filial aftection ur the marriage vow. They have a legend that a 
girl, grieving bitterly forlicr brother who had died, was changed 
into a cuckoo, and therefore this bird is a symbol of grief. Two 
girls who had no brotlier — one of the greatest misfortunes in this 
life — made a doll, and putting two black stones for eyes and 
two strings of pearl for teeth, went about it saying, " Now you 

1863. lUyrian Literature. 83 

liHve a month, eat and grow." Again, an unhappy woman, 
having lost in a single day her husband, friend, and brother, for 
love of her husband tore out her hair, for love of her friend 
tore open her cheek, and for love of her brother plucked 
out licr eyes. The first two were restored, but not the last, 
•' I'ur tlie heart which bleeds for a brother will never cease to 
blcc(|."' Persons of different families often consecrate them- 
selves to "brotherhood," or friendship. Each cuts one of his 
fingers, and letting the blood drop into a cup of water, both 
drink from it. They then, in the presence of their relatives, 
go before the altar in the chm-ch, bearing wax candles, and 
there receive the blessing of the priest. The two thus bound 
t< gethcr, called '' pobratimi " or " posestrimi," that is, " brothers " 
K>x '•sisters," are to help each other in every case, even in that 
^^'i life and death. 

At the death of a person all the relatives cry aloud, " Ah ! 
all ! why did you die ? Did you not have plenty to eat and 
drink? Did you not have a kind husband? Did you not 
Imve a brave brother? Ah! why did you die!" At night 
tlicy watch, with alternate groanings, kneelings, and bowlings, 
and drinking brandy to each other's health. At the burial 
the women sing his virtues, and then the howling begins again. 
1 he relatives celebrate the funeral sendees till evening, when 
tlit-y have a banquet. The male relatives let the beard grow 
a njonth, and wear for a year a close hat or bonnet ; the 
women wear for the same time on their head a black hhnd- 
Iverchief. In some tribes they scatter perfumed flowers upon 
■ h^- gruve, and place upon it a cup of " holy water" to assuage 
the lires of purgatory. In their lighter pieces of poetry son- 
i"-t> play an important part. Of course much of their senti- 
:!sent is lost in the translation. The following may serve as 

'Ihc Kvcn'mg. — "Come!' the evening is beautiful. The 
hour of kisses has come. Let us seek for our love some 
*iui«'t retreat. Which is more dear to thee, thy guardian or 
iiiinc? Shall thy rose bushes, or mine, make us a shade? 
'\\ liocver passes by ehuU take tlicc to be a fair white rose, and 
I ^h:lll be thought to be a brown-winged insect that flies to the 
ru^e and inhales its perfumes." 

i iifait/ifidne^.s. — " Nightingale ! beautiful nightingale 1 O, 

84' Illyrian Literature. [January, 

singer of sweet lays ! wliitlier fliest tliou ? AVhere the sun has 
gone to rest in the sea? Goest thou, perchance, to other 
maidens to soften the grief in their busojns ? Are other eyes, 
like mine, without sleep, without rest, born only to weep I 
Ah! perchance, thou goest to see other fair lands I "\Then 
thou returnest, tell me if in those hills, or in those valleys, 
among the people thou visitest, thou findest one as unhappy 
as I. A string of richest gems hung upon my neck. A 
shining ring my hand one day adorned. They were the gifts 
of him whom I ever carry in my heart. They were the most. 
sacred pledge of his faith and his love. All ! the autumn 
came in apace ! The necklace has broken from my neck ! 
The sacred ring has fallen from my linger! As in an hour 
the air of evening scattei-s the balm of the fioM'er, so short 
and fleeting was the juy yyi \w\ heart." 

The folloM'ing is a good example of the movement of the 
Illyrian '-'romances.'' The letters give as approxhnately as 
possible the sounds as in Englisli, except that the vowels 
receive the continental pronunciation: 


Dyovoyka sycdi kray inora 

l*;ik SMTiKi se1)i govori: 
"All Jiiili Uozlie i dragi ( 
Lna I'sto ^^llire od uiora? 
Ima Tsto duzhc od pel ya ? 
Iina Tsto 1)t/ho od konya? 
Ima I'sto sl.ulye od incda? 
Inia Tsto drazlie od brata?" 

(luvori rilcv izrode : 
" Dycvoyk:!, hida budalo ! 
Siro yc ntho od mora ; 
Diiz In- yt- more od ])olya; 
]}i/]i.- sM ochi od konya; 
Skidyi yt- shcclier od moda ; 
Dra/lio yo dru ^\ od brata." 


The little Girl auJ the /'7,v//.— "A little girl was sitting on 
the bank and thus sj-nkc to herself: '0, my God! is there 
nothing larger than llio sea < nothing more swift than a horse I 
nothing more sweet than honey? nothing more dear than a 
brother V 

1S03J Illy nan Literature. 85 

" A fish from the stream answered her : 

" ' Little }^irl, you surely are very thoughtless ! The heavens 
aro nuieli larger than the sea ; the ghuiee of the eye is much 
tiwitU'r than a hurse; sugar is sweeter than houey; and a lover 
is nuu-h dearer than a brother.'"' 

Of fcoiuewhat the same spirit is another: 

y/c; Bird in the Snoic. — ''The snow was falling, driven s^ 
liercrly by the storm that a little bird could not fly through it, 
but fell to the ground. A. gh"! ran out in haste with bare 
feet to receive it. A brother ran after her with her shoes, 
and said, ' Sister! sister ! are not your feet cold V She replied, 
' Xo ! The cold is not in my feet, it is in my heart. It is 
not the snow that troubles me, but my mother, for she wishes 
ijie to cspuu-c a man that I cannot love !' " 

y/c J,\itic ill the Ice. — ''A girl said to her lover, who was 
starting fur a distant land, 'Leave me, my friend, and go on 
your journey. You will find on your way a garden without 
a Iiedge, and in the garden a crimson rose. Pluck a bud and 
plaee it on your heart. As you will sec that rose fail and 
wither, so will my heart fail me in your absence.' 'And you, 
i.'iv friend,' said he, ' go back and you shall iind an evergreen 
l"re.'t, in the forest a crystal fountain, on the fountain a stone 
of marble, on the stone a cup of gold, and in the cup a piece 
*•• iee. Take the ice and place it on your heart. As you shall 
M-e the ice melt, so will melt my heart for you.' " 

For unaftected simplicity and beauty of expression these 
H.'nnets excel even those of the troubadours, and for pathos 
;i:id (lia.-tc sentiment they rival even those of northern 
Lwroj.e, which have awakened so much attention for a few 
>ear- jiast. Many of them have touches of nature as delicate 
»v» lii.wi; (,f the most remote antiquity of the Greek anthology 
l.r,y,.-iiing the age of the "Idylls." The following has alto- 
gether the sentiment of the ancient Greek : 

T/u ChlU At'jnng in the Garden. — '"A little girl in her 
l^wrdeii wjis digging out with a stone a small furrow to con- 
duel H streamlet so as to water her flowers. AYhen she had, 
Imi.-lied it she lay down and fell asleep, with her head enclus- 
t< red in a group of luireitsiis, with her hand half covered by 
tlie violets, an<l her white feet bathed by the streamlet." 

' Ol Very dillerent character is the following, which hae 
KoL'UTii Sekies, Vol. XV.— 6 

gg Illyiian Literature. [January, 

a "provincial" spirit in it most rare among the Illyrian 


ThefaUing 12ose.—'' A rose fell upon tlie eyes of a beautitul 
girl while she \s'as sleeping and ^voke her. Taking np the 
flower and looking at it she said, ' Leave me in peace, beautiful 
rose, for I have none of thy charming s]nrit. A fine young 
man calls me to marriage, but my friends give me to a man 
full of years. The old man is like a dry tree ; if the wind 
sigh in its branches, it trembles; if the rain fall, it decays; if 
the sun shine, it withers. But the young man is like a rose- 
bud. If the breath of the wind touch it, it opens ; if the rain 
fall, its leaves unfold ; and if the rays of the sun fall upon it, 
it shines in its splendor.'" 

Tlie same simplicity of style and deep feeling for Xature 
pervades all the larger poems of the Illyrians. But they al>o 
liave a wider scope and, at times, quite an intricate plot. The 
heroic poems are all wi-itten in pentameter, with the cesural 
pause always between tlie second and third feet. Tlie sim- 
plicity of tiie rhythm and movement favors the production of 
this kind of poetry among the Illyrian (or Servian) branch 
of the J^ehivic family nuK^h more than among the others. At 
the same time it impcMlc- the perfection of this kind of poetry, 
because the movement is too much controlled by the music. 
For this reason the verse is somewhat monotonous, and the 
poem can neither have those elements of variety nor of liberty 
\vhich are so essential to a grand composition. The Greek 
liexameter formerly consisted of two verses separated by a 

• cesura which were later united into one, probably at that 
period' when the Greek poetry cease<l to bo sung and accom- 
panied by music, but w:is rehearsed in a recitative or declama- 
torv manner. But among the Slaves their poetry remains yet 

• entirely under the control of the music, so that even heroic 
pieces of fifteen hundred or two thousand verses are pervaded 
bv certain lyric form<, repetitious of the same words, and a 

nmiformity of the principle of the strophe that prevents full 
•liberty to their rhythm. 

The followiu"- pa>sage from the semimythological poem the 
'^'Council of the Saint'i,^^ will serve to convey an approximate 
:idca of the movement of the Illyrian pentameter: » 

1$03.] Illynan Literature. 87 

]\Iili Bozhe chiida velikoga ! 
Ill gurmi il'se zcmlya tresc ? 
Il'iiclara more u Lregove ? 
Niti gurmi, uit sc zemlya trese 
Nit udara more u bregove, 
Vech diyelc blago svetitelyi: 
Sveti Petar i sveti Xikola, 
Sveti Jovan i svoti Iliya 
I sa nyima sveti Panteliya ; 
Nyim dolatsi blazliena Mariya, 
■ Roni sutse nits biyelo lika. 
Etc., etc., etc. 

TIic legend wliicli tliis poem, the " Comicil of the Saints," 
narrates, is a dialogue between the saints upon their preroga- 
tives in protecting men, and on the blessings which they have 
the power of dispensing. The A'irgin Mary, being called npon 
to FjK'ak, relates the unfortunate events which have happened 
in a foreign land, which the poet calls "the land of the Indies," 
that is, some very distant land. " O, my God, wliat a strange 
prodigy ! " says the poet. " Does it thunder percliance ? — or is 
tlnTe an earthquake ? — or does the raging sea brake its banks ? 
.Vol tlie heavens do not thunder — the earth does not tremble 
- nor does the sea roar. It is the saints, wliich in the heavens 
are dividing the blessings :■ St. Peter, St. Paul, St. Nicholas, 
St. ,lulin, St. Elijah, and with them St. Pantaleon. All in 
t<ars, there approaches them the Virgin Mary. Then Elijah, 
tlie lord of the lightning, (in the Illyrian poetry Elijah resem- 
l'!t-< much the Jove of the ancients,) says to her, ' O, our 
l.(l..v( d si>ter ^rary, what sad event has happened to thee, to 
l-riiig iiuch sorrow to thy countenance ? ' Then Mary the 
I'l^-K'd answered him : ' 0, my brother Elijah, lord of the 
i:;:h!iiing, wliy should I not be overwhelmed with grief? I 
« .t!ii«> Iroin the cursed land of the Indies, where there reigns a 
f.T'a! ••urnij.tion. The young men do not respect the old, sous 

• 1.. !iwt ohcy their fatliers, fathers forget their children, friends 

• ••htc-iid logrtlior in the courts of law, brothers fight in duels, 
r* lative is a>hamed of relative, and sisters do not call their 
'•r-'tliers hrutlier.' Then Elijah, the thunderer, answered her, 

• ^^ ipe away vour tears, O onr sister, blessed Mary ; when we 
'';»Vf tini<hed dividing among ourselves the blessings for men we 
^-Jll go to the coimcil of the Lord, and will pray him, if he 

gS Illyrian Literature. [January, 

will dei-n to aive us the keys of the firmament. Then we 
will close the k^vcu heavens, and we will seal the clouds, so 
that there shall foil neither rain nor dew, neither shall the 
moon illumine tlie night for three successive years.' 

"The saints then proceeded to divide the blessings: St. 
Peter took the wine, the fruit, and the keys of heaven ; Elijah 
took the thunder and the lightning ; St. Pantaleon took the 
heat of summer; St. John took the duties of brotherly love 
and of hospitality, and St. Xicholas took the sea and the pro- 
tection of sailors. Then they all went togetlier to the council 
of the Lord, and there they continued for three days and three 
iiVhts in succession, praying that their request might be 
granted. Finallv, the Lord yielded to tliem the keys of the 
heavens. They clo:^cd the seven heavens one after another, 
and then sealed the cK.uds. Xow behold, sorrow falls upon the 
earth— dryness, sickness, and death. Soon the Indians were 
converted anew to the laws of the Lord, and obtained from 
him pardon and blessings." The i>oet closes by praying God 
that such di.^graees may not be renewed, neither in the Lidies 
or elsewhere. 

The style of this and other legends resembles that adopted 
by the Homeric writers, and is in ibrm essentially epic. If mod- 
ern lyric poetry seems to be most prominent among the Scan- 
dinavians, and that branch of it which inclines to the region 
of the unknown and the fantastic prevails among the Ger- 
manic race, on the other hand, modern epic poetry is above 
all Illyrian or Scla\-ic. , The coincidences between the growth 
of this poetry and tlie ancient are very extraordinary. Its 
preservation also has been by the same means, by blind rhap- 
Bodists. These mendicant bands are not regarded with any 
feelino- of contempt, but rather are held in a species of ven- 
eration by the people. 

Of the^questions that are oeeupying the minds of European 
politicians that of the Orient i^ uf prime importance. Turkey 
in Europe is occupied by two races, the Greeks in the valleys 
and plain land uf the south, and the Sclavic races in the 
mountainous parts uf the interiur. An antipathy between 
these two people luis existed since the middle ages, when the 
Greeks, beiiiiT the more powerful, sought to expel them and 
take their lands. As the Austrians took Ilimgary under their 

jvG3.] lUyrian Literature. 89 

prokdlon. from the Turks, so the Turks took the Greeks under 
their j/rotcctimi from the Slaves. The question of the East 
can evidently be settled only by restoring; these nationalities 
uiKin their original basis. This state of affairs and this posi- 
tiuii uf the Slaves, "who, subjected by the Turks, hate the 
(; reeks and fear the Latins," are sketched in the fabulous life 
of Ttlarco, son of the king Yukashino. According to history ' 
Miireo was forced to be a Mussulman, and died fighting against 
the Christians, but hating the Turks. Such are the Slaves 
of Albania and Bosnia, who, however much they n\ay profess 
to esteem the Koran, let no occasion pass to rebel against the 
Sultan. This Marco was hunting one day with the Turks, 
iind seeing one of the viziers beat his falcon cruelly, he was 
overwhelmed with grief, and alone in the midst of his ene- 
jiii<-s, bewailing Avith a loud voice the fate of the Seiwians, he 
kilh'd the vizier. Instead of punishing him the Sultan pre- 
fented him with a gift, saying, " I can easily make another 
vizier, but with difficulty a warrior like Marco." This is the 
jiuh'ey followed by the Sultans to this day toward the Janis- 
^:lries, who often slay their captains with impunity. Marco, in 
the poem, also goes through the Orient and tights in Egypt, 
♦liiis ])ersonifpng the Mamelukes, among whom were many 
Shives, besides entire battalions of Slaves sent into Asia Minor. 
The death of Marco is not less symbolical than his life, 
representing the present condition and the future of his coun- 
try. According to the poets Marco should have lived about 
three Inmdred years, and should have died about the beginning 
"f the eighteenth century, about the time when Danubian 
Mavos lust the last vestige of their independence, and when 
fveji the title of " Servian despot" was abolished. According 
t" 'die poets, also, he was not slain by the Turks but by the 
h:ii:d of G.kI, "the ancient slayer of heroes," as the Servians 
K4.V. Whihi traveling through the mountains one of the Vila 
rrii-l t". liiin that it was now time for him to be separated 
from hip hur-e. Marco replied to the spirit that he was too 
eontent with ins horse to leave it. The vihi then told him to 
Iv'k into a I'ountain near by and he should there see his fate. 
Marco jdights, and reads in the fountain that it is time for 
idnj to die. lie then kills his horse, tl^iat it may not fall into 
the hands of the Turks, breaks his sword, that his enemies 

90 Illyrian Literatare. [January, 

may not touch it, and writes his will, leaving the three purses 
of gold which he had with him, one to whoever should bury 
him, another to the priest, and a third to the bards who pass 
from village to village singing the deeds of the ancestors, and 
ashinc^ of Ihem not\o forget him. After this he hides him- 
self and dies upon the mountain. But other traditions hold 
that Marco is not dead, but that he lives upon the mountains 
and will some day reappear, thus personifying the Sclavic 
nationality, which" in a certain manner is extinguished, or 
rather sleeps upon the mountains, as the Servian empire is 
quite destroved in the plains at present, and the independent 
population of Montenegro and of some maritime districts have 
alone preserved the historic and poetical traditions of the 
Sclavic people. 

The " Marriage of KernoyeN-ich " approaches most nearly 
to an epic of alfthe Illyrian poems. Giovanni Kernoyevich, 
an independent prince, whose court was in the fort of Zhalbyak, 
on the Lake of Scutari, undertakes a journey to Yenice to seek 
a spouse for his son. In their poetry Venice represented £tll 
the power and riches of western Europe. Forgetting all the 
nations that crossed their land during the Crusiides, from the 
power of the Yeuetiau republic, that land was, in their eyes, 
the seat of all Euroi>eau glory. That was the land of heroism, 
its .«oi't'/Y/y« was the Doge, and his sons, brothers, and nephews 
were possessed of marvelous power and riches. Kernoyevich 
then goes to Yenice to obtain a wife for his son. " He rises 
up and passes over the azure sea, bearhig immense treasures 
with him. TTc g<:»(.s to call for a sitouse to Maxinuis, his 
dearly beloved son, the mont beautiful daughter of the Doge 
of Yenice. The Doge refuses, but Giovanni remains three 
years scattering gifts among the people. Finally the Doge 
yields and they exchange rings." The poet then proceeds to 
describe all the ceremonies of departure, the splendid train 
his son ]\Iaximu3 takes to Yenice, the council of the warriop, 
the deception practiced u[)on the Doge for a short while, and 
,' the conflict among the forces of ^[axiuuis on its discovery, and 
all the stc^>3 till final consummation of the marriage. It con- 
tains many touches of nature in the descriptioris, and shows 
not n^erelv many p"Ints of the Sclavic character, but also many 
of their national and social customs. It is marked particularly 

\^i]3.] .Illyrian Litei'ature. 91 

with a calmness, reticence, and prudence very peculiar to the 
r.ooi>lc. Cannon are held as instruments of special regard by 
Jill the Sclavic races. The Eussians give great esteem to the 
'mninnioth cannon exposed in the arsenals at Moscow, and 
ihcv recount the ruin done by them against the French, 
:i:th'»u-'-h they never have been used. In this poem Giovanni 
(!(-crihes liis cannon, "of so great size and caliber that when 
they were fired from the castle of Zhalbyak (in Albania) tlie 
found was heard even in Venice. There are not such caiinon 
in any other country, neither in the seven Christian kingdoms, 
iiur in the Turkish empire. We call away om* friends and 
take our horses from the banks of the river when they are 
fired, and our friends would be struck with fear by the fearful 

This poem is the nearest approach of any of the IlljTian 
productions to an epic, yet it is hardly an epic. It is the 
opinion of Grimm and 'some others that such a poem will yet 
he produced. But political events are hastening forward too 
J'.'.-t, and that seclusion which the Slaves have enjoyed in their 
mountains, and which is an essential element in building up a 
i;iythok)gical literature, or a semimythological one like that 
"f tlie Slaves, cannot exist much longer. Contact with neigh- 
boring nations and neighboring civilization has indeed always 
^'ivcn their literature an alloyed character that has materially 
injured its unique character. Ilowever much we may admire 
the chasteness and simplicity of their sonnets, the deep feeling 
f'T nature, and the nervous energy of their heroic poems, and 
t!io complicated but well-sustained plot of their epic, like 
pu-eL-s of greater length, and of these composed by blind 
b;irds, and handed down from generation to generation unin- 
jured, uud all till only very lately quite unknown to civilized 
r.alion^, circumstances would seem to indicate that the litera- 
ture of the Illp-ians has reached its climax as to a unique 
aji<I «li!stinctive chariicter. The most that can be done now is 
t" vA\r\\ wliMt exists before the present generation passes away. 
When properly understood it will be considered one of the 
ino>t reiiuirkaiiie developments of the poetical element that 
the history of nations presents to our view. 

92 Funeral Oration u^pon Stephen Curcelheus. [Janiiaiy, 

CELL Jr: US. ^ ' 

[west pakt,] 

Among the many noted customs established by tlie ancients 
well worthy of commendation, is tliat of rendering suitable 
eulogies to the dead. Reputations are commonly assigned to 
living persons from motives of lavor or dislike. After death, 
eince they can be of neither benefit nor injmy to us, and nothing 
is to be expected or feared from their anger or resentment, 
there may be a more impartial discussion concerning their life, 
their words, and their deeds. This, like many other praise- 
worthy customs, had its origin with the Egyptians, among whom 
a very ancient tradition obtained, that their priests, because their 
lives were most perfect and their words most sincere, should 
deliver funeral orations in honor of their deceased kings. That 
this custom was established among the Greeks by their own 
preference and adoption Demosthenes is an ample authority, 
^^ho in his own day attested the honor, afiectiun, and justice, 
implied in adorning, with a funeral eulogy, the deeds of good 
and worthy men : rdv dyaOdv dvdpcov tpya h'roig XoyoK; tTTircu^iotg 
Koonuv. And indeed he, who, in the judgment of the greatest 
of Roman orators, was the most eminent orator of the Greeks, 
desired that a performance of this duty should be sanctioned by 
his own example. The eulogy which Valerius, the consul, 
pronounced \\y>m his colleague, Junius Rrutus, indicates the 
existence of this custom, even in the earliest times, among the 
Romans ; and afterward it mms an accepted practice for sons 
to laud at their funeral obsequies their parents, brothers, and 

* After their return from Vjanishment in consequence of dissenting from the 
Canons of Dort, the KL-nionstrants, or followers of Anninius, under tlieir celebrated 
leader, Simon Kpiscopiu', established a thcokv/ical school at Amsterdam. Tho 
lino of their professors was remarkable for talent. . They were successively, b^imon 
Episcopius, Stephen Curcell;eu.-!, Arnold I'olenburg, Philip Limborch, John Lo Clcrc, 
Adrian Van Cattcnbur.:!!, John James "Wetstein. Polenburg, the author of this 
piece, was a Netherlander, born at Horn. He was the successor in tho Professor- 
ship, as Wfll as funeral orator at tho obsequies of Curcclhr-us. The discourse here 
translated, the rhetoric of which we have .somewhat retrenched ui order to give it 
a more equable biographical character, is prefued to tho folio edition of tho Works 
of Curcelheus. 

18C3.] Funeral Oration upon Stephen Ciircellmus. • 93 

other relations, before public assemblies. Xor did the ancient 
C'liurch of Christ reject such funeral honors ; performed Ave find 
they were to esteemed and sainted men by Eusebius, Gregory 
Niu^ianzen, Chrysostom, and other ccclcsiasts of the early 
Churches. And although indiscriminate praise of the deceased 
H.-oined likely to pave the way for excessive reverence and 
iiiij>orstitious honor, yet the Eeformed ClvT-ch did not repudiate 
this institute, provided the eulogy be restrained within the limits 
of a just moderation. And so, omitting very many others, the 
(ienevese are wont to indulge the practice to such an extent 
that they celebrate the memory of Calvin by an annual funeral 
eulogy. At the academy in Leyden funeral orations were 
delivered by Francis Gomarus, the celebrated doctor of theology, 
upon Francis Junius, and by Peter Eertius, that master of 
ohupienee, upon James Arminius. At Frederickstadt, which 
our exiles erected upon the banks of the river Eider for a 
common place of refuge, Marcus Gualtherus Palatinus pro- 
nounced the funeral eulogy of Conrad Yorstius. In this very 
city of Amsterdam, the eminent Casper Barlneus paid a tribute 
to Simon Episcopius by the delivery of a learned and truly *' 
}icroic poem. The example of these men should doubtless 
animate me to speak of him who succeeded to the office and 
work of the great Episcopius, and whose body this day has 
received the highest honors of the sepulcher, and to recall and 
review the life, memory, and worth of Stephex Cukcelljjus. 
Others, perchance, may deem it the most important ceremony 
to follow the lodij of the dead to the grave; superior, to me, 
if^ the office of honoring the better and nobler part, the mind, 
Oiliurs may hide their grief in silence; I should incur the 
ignuminy of an ingrate did I, who am indebted to him for so 
ii'.iiuy kiiulnesses, remain mute. So would I temper, never- 
thtlc^S my discourse, that, in the judgment of others, worthy 
ttppri-.-i!Uion may not be denied, nor false and unreasonable 
pruisc acc<.»rded. 


Stepljon Cnrcellams (Co\ircelles) was born at Geneva on the 
30th of April, loSG. His father was Firminius Curcella?us, 
»n inhabitant of Amiens. His brother, a lawyer in the city 
<^>urt of Amiens, possessed such force of eloquence that he was 

94 Funeral Oration ujpon Stephen Owrcellceus, [Januaiy, 

commonly called Clirysostom, tliat is, Golden Moitth. His 
mother was Abigail Cox. His grandfiitber was Micliael Copus 
Parisiuus, the pastor of the Church at Geneva, whoso name 
Calvin has left to us inscribed upon that sacred catalogue of 
hereticides of Servetus. When the cruel slaughter of the 
reformed was raging at Paris, and was connecting itself by 
a deplorable contagion with the other parts of the realm of 
France, Firminius, being concealed in a cell at Lyons, and for 
thi-ee days and nights being faithfully guarded by a Catholic 
gentleman, escaped. Stephen successively married two ladies 
of rank, the that of whom was Johanna de Beaulieu le Blanc, 
a very noble woman, who bore him two children, both of whom 
have sm'vived him, namely : Gideon Curcellteus, the pastor 
of the Church of the Eemonstrants at Xorthwick, in the noble 
province of Dousa, and Maria Cm-cella.His, a most excellent 
daughter. Upon the death of his fii'st wife he was wedded 
to Susannah Fleurigeon Yasciacensis, who departed this life 
many years since, leaving no offspring. I might in this place 
refer to John Curccllaius, one of the ancestors of the deceased, 
whose name for fom- centuries has been one of note among the 
Picards ; and not inappropriately I might add the names of other 
illustrious members of the family ; but I do not propose at the 
commencement of my discourse to weave in a long catalogue 
of his ancestors, or to establish that high nobility, eminent as 
it was among the men of highest rank in France, where their 
illustrious pedigree is held in great esteem. For Stephen him- 
self midervalued, or so seemed to do, this rank upon the 
assigned ground that those are and should be esteemed highest 
and noblest characters whose fume arises and is emblazoned by 
their own deeds. 

He was ennobled by remarkable qualities of mind which God 
had pre-eminently bestowed upon liim. His elevated intellect 
rendered him remarkable for erudition. His mild teuDpera- 
mcnt wonderfully fitted him for the practice of every virtue. 
Yii-tue herself ennobled him, which is true and matchless 
nobility. In short, alert acti^'ity, severe labor, an insatiable 
desire for investigating truth, and a singular moderation in 
bearing and excusing the errors of others ; all these and many 

1 SC3.] Funei'ol Oration ujpon Stephen Curcellcms. 95 

otlier kindred qualities, of wliich divine truth is the leader, 
rendered this man truly noble and worthy a universal admira- 
tion and esteem. Add to these journeys extending far and 
wide, acquaintances among the most learned men formed upon 
hisi travels and inspections of different regions and public 
dutifs, all his arduous and important tasks administered in the 
Oliuroh in a manner eliciting the highest praise. And now 
you perceive, most excellent auditors, the external form of this 
our edifice, or rather, you behold the fm-nitnre and the valuable 
household ornaments, each of which must singly, with clearness 
and care, be exhibited by us, that you may be able to appre- 
ciate their perfectness and beauty. 

How great was his intellect, how capable of analyzing the 
most abstnise subjects, how fertile and rich in invention, how 
jtronipt and prepared, how stored for responding to those who pro- 
l»uunded any inquiries to him, none doubtless can more rightly 
appreciate than we, his pupils, who enjoyed the fruits of that 
power and fertility; but if we distrust in this matter oiu- 
<'^\•n judgment, we* have many corroborating witnesses, some 
hving, others dead, who as long a time as they knew him 
esteemed him highly. The most learned men have held him 
in such regard as attested their belief that his genius was worthy 
of their love. His judgment was disciplined and acute, so. that 
no slight reason, however supported by great authority it might 
be, could induce him to adopt an opinion; but when once his 
decision was formed he was most reluctant to revoke it till 
Compelled by the greater force of reasoning and evidence of 
truth. lie had a powei'ful memory, if any one ever did, for 
grar-jiing and retaining a very great number of things ; unde- 
nuibly a most important and useful faculty for advancement in 


Naturally endowed with this intellect and power of judgment, 
wli.-n ho liad emerged from boyhood and shaken oft" the scho- 
hi>tic dn>t, he applied his mind to the perfection of truth, and 
we can clearly see how prosperous was his course in the pur- 
t^uit of knowledge. He entered the Genevese Stoa, and there 
paid a willing und listening ear to the most renowned histo- 
rians, philosophers, and indeed all others well versed in any 
brunch of science or learuinrr. 

96 Funeral Oration upon Stephen CurcellcEus. [January, 

At the commencement of his studies he was much devoted 
to mathematics, either lest, contrary to the admonition of Plato, 
he should ai)proach the grappling with mightier subjects 
ayeu)fierpo(;, untaught in geometry, or because his very subtle 
and penetrating mind, with a secret propensity of nature, 
loved to grasp subjects abstruse and recondite, and suitable to 
its own aptitude; for I agree with those philosophers who 
think that the business which is to be undertaken, or the art 
which is to be acquired, should be one accordant with the 
genius and bent of the individual, according to that celebrated 
line of the poet : 

" Tu nihil invita dices faciesve Minerva.'' 

And just as fire appropriates aliment from a neighboring fuel, 
so an eager and persevering mind attracts and reciprocally is 
attracted by those things which it recognizes as congenial to 
its own individuality. 

Curcellojus, according to the vigor and ardor of his genius, 
was not content with a smatter of mathematical discipline, as 
at the present day not a few, (and yet rather few, since the 
many do not touch those studies at all,) but penetrated its 
inmost .recesses and intricacies ; but after that Descartes 
opened his many discoveries he approved his method of philoso- 
phizing in must respects, and surrendered himself to an intimate 
acquaintanceship with that philosopher, who (as equals are 
pleased with cfjuals) displayed toward him equal affection, so 
that scarcely did he ever visit or see this city without him. 
iJut it cannot be dissembled (since he was unwilling to leave 
anything in this direction unti'ied) tliat when a youth he was 
led by his inquisitiveness to the study of astrology, which is 
said to be the predictress of future events ; but having explored 
it well, he came to the conclusiuu that that system was wholly 
imposture, unworthy to be examined except for the pmpose of 
exposure; as the Jewish writers rehite that the seventy men of 
the Sanhedrim were accustomed to learn judicial astrology 
(which no one would call judicial who was hm\i(A^ judicious) 
that they might, with authority, condemn its learnei-s and 
practicers. . 


Leaving these matters (for it is unnecessary for us to dwell 
longer upon pursuits in which om- venerated subject spent not 

1 SC3J Funeral Oration ujpon Stephen CurcelUeus. 97 

lii-^ life) we pass to the weightier studies of theology, to wliich 
CureelliX'US so aspired, that in his early manhood he desired in 
llicni forever to be engaged, and in the acquirement of them 
to die ; for his mind, animated by the desire of immortal life, 
under-itood that other arts and studies, although of themselves 
iu>t illiberal nor unworthy the study of a liberal mind, were 
tun ortlieless not so worthy that in them he could consume so 
much of his time and labor, especially in the brevity of hmnan 
life, unless all things were subordinated to this main purpose. 
And, indeed, of other faculties (as they are called) some are assist- 
niiocs for protection, as jurispi-u deuce ; others are of benefit in 
jM-eserving or obtaining strength of body, as medicine; but the- 
ology instructs the mind, that divine part of man, in the knowl- 
edge of the greatest matters. It adorns \dtli virtues, it points 
'Mil and leads the way to immortality. To others there may be 
I'lt-asure, in becoming acquainted with worldly matters, to per- 
severe in gaining wealth, or acquiring honor, or in obtaining 
knowledge ; his mind, regardful of its higher origin, was occu- 
I'icd in the contemplation of higher objects, in their securement 
and preservation ; and so, earnestly persevering in these labors, 
he listened night and day to the most profoundly learned theo- 
logians. He especially pondered and diligently revolved the 
pages of the Sacred Word ; he usually consulted some of those 
who illustrated the Sacred Writ in commentaries ; above all, 
lio had teachei-s in theology choice and select, who gathered 
t'ltrctlier by some method into a sort of compendium all things 
whirh, more broadly diffused, were contained -in the Sacred 
Writings; nor yet did he so submit to either living or silent 
and dead masters as to be unable to preserve for himself a per- 
fect atid pure judgment, for he knew that they all, his prede- 
ct-^-<»rs, were men liable to error, however conspicuous they 
might liave been for learning and piety ; and that not a few, 
even amid the discussions of former times, received, on 
account of their earnest zeal, more credit for learning than the 
truth wonhl accord ; and he solenmly recognized that for what- 
t^<K'ver he did he must render an account to God, and he there- 
fure hought and diligently inquired for hiuiself what might 
Ix^ consistent with divine truth, with right reason, and with 

98 Funeral Oration iipon Sk]?hai Curcdlaus. [January, 


It was when Curccllteus had just entered npon his theological 
course of study that Calvin was held in highest honor, or rather 
his writings, for he was then deceased. The name next in power 
and authority was that of Beza. Two great men and most 
eminent writers, the latter of whom, as he was well acquainted 
with the Greek tongue, gave private instructions in this lan- 
guage to Curcellanis ; a kindiicss which he, as a mindful e.-timater 
of benefits, was accustomed to commemorate as a specimen of 
Beza's eminent benevolence ; and when the authority of these 
men had risen to sucli a i)itch, when almost all England, France, 
and Belgium faithfully followed their opinions in sacred mat- 
terSj it were a daring tiling, and a seemingly impossil)le task, 
for a single private individual, reMng upon his own judgment, 
to place himself against such a mass of authority ; nor yet did the 
reverence with which he was inspired toward these and other 
doctors so iniluence him as to enable him to digest the rigorous 
doctrines of Calvin, and the still more austere sentiments of 
Beza, concerning predestination. 

]\Iany declarations in the oracles of God were an obstacle, 
and these so clear, that it was manifest that they could hardly 
be impugned by a few obscurer passages. The consenting 
authority of the ancient primitive Church was an obstacle 
v.-hich much outweighed in gravity of judgment and authority 
of suffrages. Finally his own temper of mildness and clemency 
was an obstacle, by which he was so bound and constrained that 
he dared not receive such austere and terril)le dogmas of God's 
character. It makes a great dilTerence whether a harsh and 
severe mind or a mild .and gentle one is brought to an inquiry 
into truth. The severe temper easily believes severe things of 
God. A disposition inclined to clemency hardly admits per- 
verse doctrines concerning the mercy of God. It is therefore 
no matter of astonishment that our Curcelheus, influenced as 
he was by so mild a disposition, was opposed to those harsh 
imacrlnations of some theologians concerninj' God. This also 
was a matter of consideration that many, even of the leading 
minds, while they desired to afford a remedy to popish errors fell 
into opposite ones; and this nut from deliberate counsel, but, 
as often happens, being carried further by too great a heat 

1803.1 Funeral Oration upon Stc2-)hen Cur cellceus. 99 

t>f argument ; an error wliich liappened to Augustine when he 
o|>iH»secl tlie Pelagians with overdone zeal, and to Chrjsostom 
wlien against the Anthropomoriihites, as Beza and even Calvin 
ihtMiiselves have allowed. So when Curcella?us beheld many 
(JufU'ring human infirmities, and imitating not nnfrequently 
ul»^killed physicians who amputate healthy limbs with the 
di.-ca.-cd and corrupt, and apply poisons instead of remedies, 
ho saw reason for not approving every dogma presented or 
iij>I>roved by them, and that, according to the direction of the 
jipostle, all things should be proved and good be retained. 

Two things prevented Calvin (of whom I, having made men- 
tion, will speak a little) from obtaining a correct knovdcdge 
of the truth. That he was of a severe turn of mind appears 
from his violent oppression of those diftering from him. On 
tliis account he did not hesitate to attribute to God certain 
Imrsh and terrible decrees, which he himself calls Itorribilia / 
hikI when he opposed tl»e Papists with all his energy he fell 
into opposite errors not less injurious than those he had under- 
taken to refute. So when the Papists maintained that human 
Jiropitiations for sin availed to the attainment of election and 
falvatlon, whence a depreciation is shed upon the merits of 
Christ, he, on the other hand, maintained that the satisfaction 
rendered by Christ not only benefited, but also alone sufficed, 
n\id indeed so sufliced that neither faith nor works could enter 
into the account. Likewise, when some ur^-ed against him that 
we obtained justification by the merit of our works, he, on the 
contrary, maintained that faith alone, works not being con- 
fiderod, so far as it embraced Christ crucified, was sutficient 
for justification. They received bad things into the class of 
pood ; he, not content with rejecting the false, took away, by his 
opinion, the necessity of good works even in the busiuess uf 
ju.-ti float ion. We have said this for the sake of illustration ; 
we caimot pursue the subject further. 

lUit oiir Cureellreus, although he was unable to acquiesce in 
that more severe opinion which some following, defended the 
abH»lute decree of God in the matter of predestination, (tor I 
reinemljcr his saying to me somewhere that he could never 
accept such terrible doctrines.) yet, however much he might 
have been interested that the doctrine should be received, he 
Could scarcely form any firmly established opinion. lie dis- 

100 Funeral Oration yj>07i Stephen Curcdheus. [January, 

covered more easily what he should reject than what he should 
believe. But he often deplored it as a matter of the greatest 
detriment and grief that his residence was in those localities 
where this rigid decree could not be opposed with safet}-, nor 
could an opposite view be freely defended, nor could he confer 
with any one upon this subject according to his wish. AVluit 
evil afterward hajipened to him from this thing, and into 
what straits he afterward was reduced, will soon be copiously 


Kow, since I have commenced to lay down his course of 
studies, after that he resided in the academy at Geneva for a 
long time, on account of the opportunities afforded for an edu- 
cation and Ills luve fur his natal city, he thougiit that he should 
not hold the boundaries of his existence so narroM'ly circum- 
scribed, but should emerge from hjs comitry, and after the 
example of Pythagoras, Plato, and especially of Jerome, and 
of the other otirly Christians, to visit and pass through other 
regions, to survey other academies; for the same opinion is 
seldom held by all, and even if the same view does obtain, it 
is sustained by ditlerent kinds of reasoning, or objections else- 
whore opposed are obviated by very varying replies. 

lie therefore in the ninth year of the present centm-y 
departed from Geneva, accredited by a very honorable testi- 
monial from the then rector of the school, John Deodatus, and 
by Antony Fay. They certified his rank, diligence, learning, 
modesty, and piety ; and finally, they dismissed him with the 
declar-tiuii tli;a he had ej-cittd the hope in'thcm, that as his 
tcdcnts icere of no hrferior order ^ hy the Vlessing of God large 
fruits Viould foUoiv the sovnruj of such excellent things, and 
that he icas earnestly cejmmendeel on these eiccounts to the love 
and watchful care of all good men. lie therefore went to the 
academies in Helvetia, Turin, Basil, and from these, having 
wandered over all parts of Germany, he came to Cologne ; 
\'ibitcd Heidelberg, where he formed an intimate acciuaintanec 
with the celebrated Jurio Dionysius Godfrey, and admired his 
wonderful memory in learning ; fur when other })rofessors were 
accustomed to read from a paper or the book itself the laws 
which they quoted, he would accurately, copiously, and cor- 

1S03.] Funeral Oration upon Stejyhen CurcdlmJLS. 101 

rc<'tlv quote fis many as fifty or sixty lines from that most 
faitliful guardian of treasures, his memory. Onr Cm-cell^eus 
then determined to undertake a journey into this our Belgium ; 
Imt sonic misfortune befalling the French he thought it best for 
him to return, and not long after, in the year 1614, applied 
for ilic ecclesiastical order. I will here pass over much of his 
-rent learning, which was so widely extended that when he was 
limply competent to the practice of medicine he was by no 
means unskilled in the science of jurisprudence, and well versed 
and finished in other branches of learning and accomplishment. 
F\>r although some consider it a fault to distract the mind by 
devoting it to too many pursuits, because we are then esteemed 
iiutit for any one employment, yet in great and sublime intel- 
lects this is not so much a matter for blame as for praise, pro- 
vided that they do not dissipate too widely the power and 
strength given to them by God, especially if they do not wander 
from the chosen direction, but^ like travelers journeying to their 
native land, direct continually hither their eyes and their minds. 
Xur M-ill I delay longer (as I had intended) to commemorate 
his indefatigable diligence, esteeming it sufficient to mention 
in a word that after he had completed his fiftieth year he 
:v.rjuired tlie Spanish tongue so as to enable him to understand 
the books of the Jews, written in great numbers in Spanish and 
Portuguese, and that he, when of an advanced age, passing 
liis seventieth year, while strength allowed, remitted nothing 
from the highest diligence in reading and writing, and even 
during the last years of his life he revolved the many monu- 
ments of the ancient writers in the Church, rapidly but yet with 
accuracy; and in short, when lie was racked by internal and 
jrriovous pains of body he would often steal away from his bed, what very little time was left free from his pains might be 
di-votcd to his labors. But I will not now linger in a review 
of tlu.>i> other acquirements, lest they delay our approach to 
• 'thcr and perhaps greater topics. 

RICHELIEU., therefore, having returned to I'rancc, he was established 
*^* lMist<)r at Fontainbleau. The Church there was not numer- 
ous, including but ibur or five families; but yet the congrega- 

l-'urinii Skuiks, Vol. XV.— 7_ 


102 Funeral Oration upon Skphen CurccUceus. [January, 

tion was crowded, and honorable on account of tlie number of 
distinf-uisbed men who constantly frequented tbe palace. They 
were the attendants of King Louis the Thirteenth, for he, having 
first seen the light of day at Fontainbleau, induced by a love 
for his natal spot, frequently resorted thither. It happened 
upon this occasion that the most illustrious lady, xVloysia 
Coligny, widow of his highness Trince William Auriacus, a 
most^noted patroness and protectress of the cause of the Kemon- 
strants, (which is clear from letters given to Utenbogardus,) 
X fell into a severe and plainly fatal disease. To this heroine 
then, because she was inclined to the reformed religion, Curcel- 
la?us' came in her last hours and administered the last and 
worthy solaces which arc due to so great piety. Accidentally, 
upon the other side of tlie couch there was seated a noble lady 
of the Reformed Church. Cardinal Puchclieu, then Bishop of 
Lucon, (who had been sent thither out of compliment by the 
queen 'on her departure for Taris,) entered and said to the 
sick heroine, " Lady, have a care for thy soul, for two devils are 
now sitting by thy bedside." lie said this out of great zeal 
for the papacv, ior wliich he was inflamed, or at least wished 
so to seem. The illustrious Prince William Auriacus, grand- 
son of Lady Aloysia, di-played l)ctter and more kindly feelings 
for the sympathizing action of Curcelteus ; for when he learned 
that his son, Gideon Curcellneus, had been flung into a gloomy 
prison in TraT\sylvania for preaching to a congregation of 
Kemonstrants, he endeavored to rescue him, by repeatedly send- 
in^ letters from the prison in which he had lingered for three 
months aii<l had alnu^t wasted away ; and althougli the illus- 
.trious prince had accumplishcd nothing by his intercession, on 
account of the opposition of some zealots in that place, yet it is 
.pleasinf to record that he wished to give evidence of his good 
will in memory of our kindness to his illustrious grandmother, 
our patron. 


Afterward Curcelheus, having left Fontainbleau, where he 
lived for almost nine years, wus promoted to a Church in 
Amiens a place In Picardy, his ancestral province. 

Havinf mentioned the Church at Amiens, with which he was 
. connected only two years, it will be well to state the reason 

1 SC3.] Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellanis. 103 

why he remained here so briefly, or ratlier why he was compelled 
to resign. At the same time it is proper to explain by what 
ooca-'^ion he was induced to join the side of the Ticmonstrants ; 
hv what trickery of certain persons, or by what heat of recrim- 
ination, he was in some sense banished ; and finally, under 
cumpul^on, of what fortune he adhered, with great con- 
t^tancy, after having once surrendered himself to our, or rather 
divine truth. When this reverend man was installed pastor 
of the Church at Amiens, about the year 1G21, the dispute 
concerning the controverted points on predestination was 
raging and had extended itself even to the neighboring nations ; 
but although the s^mod at Dort decided these controversies 
according to the wish of om* adversaries, of whom indeed it 
consisted, yet the flame of the quarrel was not so quenched 
hut that it blazed more furiously even than before. In Bel- 
gium, after this decision had been given, it came so far within 
the limits of moderation (if indeed it could be called modera- 
tion) that unless any one would submit to the canons of Dort 
he could not remain in discharge of his duties and oflice ; but 
in France (whence no one had been sent to the synod, the king 
Iiaving forbidden this) the matter proceeded so far that an 
oath was prescribed in support of the canons established at 
Dort. This decree was given in the Senate at Alesia, Peter 
Molinteus, the president, especially urging it, (lest indeed his 
Anatomy of Arminianism should have to undergo a new 
anatomatizing.) Such a decree, so very cruel and most atro- 
i-ious, I think, from the first days of Christianity to the present 
time never was formed or known; for not only did the judg- 
ment of Dort establish a Eule of Faith^ but it also bound, by 
a very pacred oath^ the consciences of the pastors to a promise, 
^'ivcn in their own handwriting, to recognize these canons of 
Durt as divine and true and abiding, even to the last moment 
of tlicir lives. To this decree, which was enacted in the 
National Synod in the year 1620, not only Curcellrcns at 
Amiens, and David Pdondellus, then the pastor of the Church 
at Honda, afterward the professor of ecclesiastical history at 
Ain.-terdam, but all the ministers of that diocese, rendered earn- 
est opposition. Here indeed this solemn ceremony of an oath 
Wftfl abolished ; but in the following year in another provincial 
fe>nod a new instrument was formed, by which all were con- 

104 Funeral Oration upon Stephen CurceUcms. [Jannary, 

strained to receive the faith of the canons, but -without the 
taking of an oath. Curcellieus perceiving tliat our opinion 
would be rejected, wliich he had not yet submitted to the test 
of Scripture, and that the Ilemonstrants "would be condemned 
as guilty of schism, whom he believed to be the least worthy 
of this accusation, and that conscience would be bound hy the 
establishment of men when it belonged to God, alone declared 
himself unable by hand or mind to yield assent to it ; and soon 
after he resigned his office, appealing to the Xational Synod, 
soon to be celebrated at Carenton, which he did by the advice 
of his fi-iends and relations, influenced by some trickery in the 
synod, who threatened that unless he should do this of his own 
free-will that the synod would brand him with the severer 
mark of ignominy ; but when this synod was held, aflairs were 
grievously disturbed in this our Belgium ; neither was there a 
place of refuge eitlier by sea or land, nor a gleaming hope 
of happier times. Some likewise instilled a doubt in liis 
mind concerning the foreknowledge of God, upon which he 
was not entirely settled, and from which stronghold they were 
attempting to overthrow the Idea of God's predestination. His 
relations, friends, advisers, and other importunate interferers, 
added tht-ir intluence, and urged his wavering and doubtful 
mind that he should surrender his own conscience, with his own 
handwriting, into servitude to certain sacred canons, but with 
these reservations in the conditions: first, that he should not 
be held as condemning the Remonstrants, an act to which he 
expressed himself very averse; second, that he could not 
wholly approve those canons in which our opinii^i was rejected; 
the remaining ones, which they called affirmative, in which 
their opinion was expressed, he could not be held to approve 
in the same sense as the partisans of Dort ; for the synod hav- 
ing omitted the former published the latter under this title : 
Articles adojyted at the Xational S//nod of the lief armed Church 
of France, held at Charenton. Printed at Paris. Finally, he 
declared that from Canon XY, cap. 1, if seemed that God is the 
author of sin ; nevcrthuless, inasmuch as a certain explanation 
or rather softening, which, as it then seemed, was not absurd, was 
given, he acquiesced. He was then innnediately promoted to 
the pastorship of a country Church in the town of llelmauru, 
and, on account of his age or some other reason, was placed 

1S03.) Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellcms, 105 

over Samuel ;Nraresius ; not long after he was called to a city 
Cliurch at Vitriacuin, the most celebrated and numerously 
Rttt'iulcd in all Campania, in which station he persevered for 
ten Years, till the thirty-fourth year of the present century. 


In the mean time no slight wound remained upon his mind, 
Ut.'iu?o, on account of suggested scruples not sufficiently weighty 
and ditiiculties hardly insuperable, he had suffered hhnself to 
\>c or to seem to be moved by any compact whatever, either 
from the most precious possession and most free profession 
of truth ; but especially his mind was stung by this fact, that 
liC bad fuhmittcd his conscience, accountable to God alone and 
tlic lluly Scrl]>tures, to a slavery to men and the statutes of 
iiu-ii. All things, even those which he said with the best inten- 
lii»ii.-5, were perverted by the sinister suggestions of certain men 
into a guspieiou of heresy. A work on predestination by Her- 
man Herbert, pastor at Gouda, published in Belgic and trans- 
lateil into Frencli, which he had happened to lend to a very 
ncjir neighbor, was the most fruitful cause of strife both with 
private men and the synod itself His own mind was then 
liarassed with a wavering and anxious deliberation upon every 
^i'le ; for what could a man of so advanced an age do, his 
estate and means of support being small? Should he remain 
in France ? But there there was no hope of liberty. Or should 
Ik- betake himself hither ? But what protection to a stranger 
or a furciirner in resrions where he feared himself to be little 
atroptablo to any body ? Yet you may see, my excellent audi- 
I'-n., how great is the force of conscience, especially in manlier 
uiindf,; fur what did our Curcella?us do, what counsel did he 
t.\lo, Uing placed in this trouble, unsustained by a single 
fru-ii<l ? J.i^tening no more to friends and relations, but deliv- 
t-nnj: hi»n^<>lf to the guidance and rule of the Holy Spirit, he 
lift bin country, kinsmen, and friends ; he fled from an inferior 
and tcrn-no country as Abraham, and he took that path which 
)»e kni.'w Would render his journey to that higher and celestial 
World Kiler and more unimpeded. He fled as Jacob, and he 
linally ctinic to rest in this country, in which he saw the lad- 
der by which was his entrance into heaven. 


The Heouriixg Ea/r. 


Art. VI.— the HEARrN^G EAR. 

" The hearing ear and the seeing eye, the Lord has made 
even both of them." He who wrote more wisely than any 
other proverb writer names the ear first in his mention of two 
of heaven's choicest bestowments. It is one of the " five gate- 
ways to knowledge." ^Vlio shall say that any organ opens 
the way to knowledge more varied and important than the 
ear ? The connection of ita organism with the senses, and the 
senses with it, is a perpetual miracle. 


There' is far more difficulty in demonstrating the organ of 
hearino- than tliat of seeing. The first is inclosed in a hard, 
rocklike, bony case, hid from view, and when revealed by the 
anatomist's saw presents much that is strange and unaccountable. 
The latter is presented to full view, and operates by laws which 
are, in part at least, understood. The first is operated upon by 
sound, which is less appreciable than light, and the laws of 
which are less understood. In order to describe the ear practi- 
cally we will divide the subject into the External Ear, or that 
which we see ; the Canal., at the bottom of which is the drum ; 
and the InUrnal Ear. 

Fig. 1. 

The "auricle," which is seen in fig. 1, is not necessary to 
hearing, although very useful to collect and conduct sounds 

1863 J The Hearing Ear. 107 

into the canal. It is essential to accurate hearing. In a 
healthy condition it is insensible, being composed of cartilage, 
or ^ristle, as is proved by the impunity with which it is pierced 
from motives of vanity. In ancient times it was slit, cut, and 
ppeared as a penalty for civil oifenses. It is not, except in a 
few remarkable instances, under the control of man. The 
horse, as is well known, turns it in any direction at will. The 
shape of the auricle in the lower animals indicates their habits, 
and the mode by which they obtain their food. For example, 
timid animals, as the rabbit, have the auricle turned backward, 
and laid flat, so as to hear from behind, and not to impede 
flight. Pursuing animals have small ears, which are directed 
forward. The auricle of small wild animals is carefully pro- 
tected from brushwood by the multitude of pinnos, or short, 
stiff hairs, which covers their interior surface. Domestication 
of animal causes the auricle to become more pendulous. 

Although so insensible, the auricle, when it becomes inflamed, 
is by no means to be trifled with. By the application of 
poisons, or irritating articles, it becomes frightfully swollen. 
This is often the case when the organ has been frozen. In- 
flammation of the auricle is often very obstinate, and refuses to 
yield to remedies. Generally, however, the prompt removal 
of the offending cause, and the application of a little sweet oi! 
or unguent, soon induces the healing process. The shape of the 
auricle is found most desirable for hearing trumpets, thus 
proving that it is mainly useful to direct sounds into the ears. 
On a very large scale it was imitated by the tyrant Dionysius. 
His tyrannical device has outlived the monster who contrived it, 
and proves that acoustics was to some degree jmderstood even 
at that far-off period. 


In 1S40, during several days spent at ancient Syracuse, wc 
visited this remarkable spot. Xear the gateway and towers, 
erected by Archimedes, is a locality called " the quarry," among 
the rocky chambers of which is found, in a state of perfect pres- 
ervation, the celebrated prison of Dionysius. If the cmpcrui- 
could return again, as he stood in the artificial cave, he would 
not perceive that thousands of years had brought any change. 
It is built in the form of the letter s, and is intended to imitate 

108 The Hearing Ear. [Januar}-, 

the cochlea of the human ear. We observed that it still con- 
tained a stone bathing-tub, probably the very same that was 
used in the execution of prisoners by his order. 

The following is a leaf from our private journal, written in 
the evening of the day that we visited this grotto in the quarry 
of Syracuse : 

It is shaped hke the auricle of the human ear. It is so arranged 
that all sounds concentrate at one single spot. It is fifty-eight 
feet in height, seventeen feet wide, and two hundred and ten feet 
deep. The sounds are all conveyed to the tympanum, which 
commimicates with a small private apartment where the curious 
emperor spent his leisure in hearing ^\'hat the unfortunate prisoners 
had to say of him. This apartment we find still preserved. In- 
deed, all is cut out of solid rock and cannot be destroyed, else the 
tooth of time would have obliterated all traces of this infamous 
monarch. The custode tired a small ])istol, A\hich caused a tre- 
mendous report through the cavern, la-^ting several seconds. This 
is very near the spot where Cicero discovered the grave of Archi- 
medes, which was shown us, and has been shown to tourists ever 
since the time of the great orator. This is one of the oldest historic 
places in the world that is so well authenticated. These monu- 
ments are carved by an ancient people out of granite rock, and 
will be found just as well jtreserved when many more centuries 
shall have rolled 1)y, and will ho visiied while the name of Ai'chi- 
medes is respected and that of Dionysius execrated. 

It will be seen, by referring to fig. 1, that tlie auricle is set 
upon the end of a cartilaginous tube, (2) which terminates in 
a mass of convoluted bones, (3) which constitute the organ of 
hearing. The position of the auricle, in relation to this canal, 
causes blows upon the ear to be very dangerous to the in- 
tegrity of the organ. A careless blow upon the ear of a child 
by a parent or a teacher has often proved a cause of subsequent 
deafness throughout a whole lite. 

If the reader will at this moment press with his finger upon 
that httle prominence wliich stands sentinel on the lower side 
of the entrance to the canal opposite the auricle he will per- 
ceive that pain is produced. Let him increase that pressure, 
or violently thrust his linger into the entrance to the canal, 
and he will perceive that the pain is increased, and that it will 
continue some moments, perliaps a quarter or half an hour. 
This is an extremely sensitive spot. Nature has taught us 
instinctively to guard it. If danger threatens a blow, or 

I,s03j The Hearing Ear. 109 

a niit*sile is seen about to strike, the hand will be so placed 
ti^ to shield this weak spot. Just in front of the ear the 
j^kull is very thin. In no other part of the head is it so 
t unprotected. 

The external ear, the canal and its appendages, are not 
♦rx'ated by the public with the consideration and respect which 
tlu'V deserve. Many cases of deafness may be traced to neglect, 
which a little timely warning may prevent. TTe shall say 
inure on this point when we next consider the canal of the ear 
wliich terminates in the drum. 


This is seen tolerably well in fig. 2. In order to show it 
more perfectly the engraving should be greatly magnified. 
It is, huwever, shown in this diagram much larger than in 

Fig. 2. 


In the above diagram will be observed tlie auricle, which we 
have Ik-cu considering, at A; the canal E, leading to the 
drum C, F, indicates the place of the eustachian tube, which 
♦•"'.luiitmicates with the mouth and no.-e, and through which 
»ir picsses into the internal or middle ear. It is through this 
*>j'h; that tricky buys sometimes amuse themselves by drawing 
*'iK»ke into the mouth and expelling it by the ears. 

110 The Hearing Ear. [January, 

A congregation 'will be observed with mouths open if they 
wish to hear very well, because the vibrations of air are im- 
proved by ready transmission through this canal. Gunners 
prevent rupture of the drum by opening the mouth as they* 
fire their pieces. In this diagram the bony case of the ear is 
represented as sawn asunder. D and B mark the bony pro- 
jection, which the reader may find if he will put his finger 
behind and beneath the auricle that graces the side of his head. 
It is with this canal, about one inch in length, that we shall 
have most to say of a practical nature. It is just here that 
diseases may oftenest be relieved, and it is to this most sensi- 
tive spot that the most pernicious local remedies are constantly 
applied, to the fatal injury of the organ of hearing. 

The canal of the ear is crooked, more so than either diagram 
represents. It bends downward, and is only straightened by 
lifting the auricle up. This may be done by seizing it at the 
top and gently drawing it up. It is studded with hairs, to 
prevent the introduction of insects and dust, and is supplied 
with a very peculiar secretion called wax, for the want of a 
name, and because it in some degree resembles wax when in a 
healthy condition. When the hearing is perfect we have little 
regard for the organ. God, in his beneficent wisdom, has so 
ordered that it does not require any care to secure the due per- 
formance of its functions. Hearing is very frequently impaired, 
and that permanently, by sheer unmitigated carelessness. A 
little dust, or any slightly imtatiiig cause, will produce an itch- 
ins in the entrance to this canal which invites interference. The 
little finger is introduced as far as possible, and by a violent 
shake of the hand injury is produced. A roll of paper, the 
end of the spectacle frame, a pencil, a pin, an ear pick, or some 
other instrument of mischief, is introduced as carelessly as if 
this hole was a very unimportant orifice lined with insensible 
material, and leading to no important organ. The truth is, 
that this passage is connected with the most important organs. 
It is lined by the most delicate membrane (though not the 
most irritable) in the body, uiid when diseased none more 
obstinate in the endeavor to heal. This canal leads to the 
organ of hearing, and very near to the brain. Only a wall, no 
thicker than i)aper, separates the inner car from that vital 
organ. It is when diseased that the greatest injury is produced 

1S63.] The Hearing Ear. Ill 

by interference. Even respectable physicians suggest the most 
improper applications. Those physicians who are familiar with 
the diseases of the ear are careful in the introduction of the 
Bpcculmn, (a tube through which the ear is examined;) and 
the B}Tinge, if regarded necessary, is inserted with great care, 
cli^e the delicate membrane of the canal should possibly be 
abraded. "WTien applied to in cases where insects, beans, 
Ijcuds, or other foreign bodies have become lodged in the 
canal, we are very careful in the use of instruments, preferring 
the syringe and the stream of water, which, wliile it usually 
dislodges the foreign body, does no possible harm. 

Almost everybody knows something good for "earache," 
and is ready to suggest his panacea. Almost every week we 
hear of some new ear application. The list of these which 
have been recommended would fill two pages of this journal. 
Those now often suggested by medical men even and others 
would fill a page, while really nothing is safe except same Hand, 
pure oleaginous substance, and nothing should be introduced 
into the ear without competent advice. Eeference to our 
popular work on this subject, chapter iii, on Hearing,* will 
surprise the reader with regard to the reckless manner in 
which the ear has been treated from the earliest times. It is 
common even to this day to apply laudanum, (the worst of all,) 
onions, fat pork, bacon, boiled figs, poultices, and cotton wool. 
Almost every day we hear of some new domestic application 
to the ear. Formerly the essential oils, liniments, even the 
tincture of Spanish flies, turpentine, creosote, and almost 
everything else, was poured into the ear, as if it was intended 
to give the patient no possible chance of recovery. Friends 
did the work of him who 

" Stole 

With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial. 

And in the porches of the ear did pour 

The leperous distillment;" 

^and, nowadays, friends do the deaf irreparable injury. If we 
nmst put caustic substances or spirituous applications into our 
own eye or ear, we should very much prefer to put them into the 
former, because the lining membrane has more recuperative 
power, and will sooner recover from violence inflicted. This 
* "Sight and Hearing: How Preserved and how Lost." 


The Rearing Ear. 


canal, for tlie reason suggested, cannot be accurately examined 
without an instrument for the purpose. Many have been 
devised, both for daylight and for artificial light. In order to 
give the popular reader an idea of the method of examining 
the canal, we give below a diagram of an instrument made at 
the suggestion of the author by an ingenious instrument-maker.* 


The affection commonly known as "earache" has its seat 
in this canal. It must have frequently excited surprise that 
the pain should be so intense and obstinate, and that the dis- 
charge should be so great. On referring to fig. 2, it will be 
seen that the dark broad line extending from E to C, which 
represents the canal, is lined on either side by small oval white 
spots. These indicate the glands, which secrete the waxy sub- 
stance with which tlie canal is lubricated, and by which it is 
kept in proper condition for the performance of its functions. 

* Greorge Tiemann & Co., the manufacturers, have given it the name of 
"Dr. Clark's Reflecting Otoscope." It is provided with a steel mirror and a lens, 
by which the magnifying power of a lens is combined with a highly-polished re- 
flector. By its aid the whole of the canal and the drum, across the bottom of 
which it is stretched, are brought into full view. 
- ' Fig. 3. 

A represents the part exposed to the sunlight, while E and C are different sized 
specula which are introduced into the ear. The lens and mirror are concealed 
within the case opposite the point B. The eye is applied at D when it is desired 
to make an examination by its aid. The ordinary speculum is merely a conical 
tube, of which there are different sizes, adapted to different patients, according to 
the size of the canal of the ear of the patient. 

1S63.] The ReaHng Ear. 113 

Exposure to a draft, or wliile bathing, or a sudden cold con- 
tracted in some way, produces at first a slight pain in the 
side of the head. In very many cases the teeth seem to be 
involved, and about the whole of one side of the head there is 
a feeling of great discomfort. Somebody recommends cotton 
wool with laudanum dropped upon it. Immediately the canal 
is (\n\ J stuffed., and various medicaments are poured in, the stuff, 
iiig serving the purpose of preventing its exit. The patient 
becomes worse. He lies awake all night ; the ear is poulticed 
and steamed, and the patient is drugged until suddenly a dis- 
charge appears, and if the plug is removed it runs out, and the 
patient is relieved of» the pain. In some cases the ear soon 
returns to its normal condition. In many others, especially in 
children, a permanent discharge is set up, which, without 
proper treatment, continues for years, to the ultimate destruc- 
tion of the organ of hearing, and resulting sometimes in fatal 
disorders of the brain. The canal of which we are speaking 
is formed by bone, and these glands are encased in bony cav- 
ities. When they take on inflammation, and while pus is 
abundantly' secreted, there is no chance for its exit. At length 
the accumulation is so great that the cavities are completely 
filled, and there being, no soft spots to distend, and thus permit 
further accumulation, the pressure upon the bony walls pro- 
duces pain almost intolerable. Kone who have suffered it will 
deny the assertion that no pain can be more severe.* This 
pain will continue until at length the accumulated fluid 
breaks through into the canal, and is discharged from the ear. 
In most cases this ends the difiiculty, and the patient recovers 
from this attack; yet it is very apt, unless the cause is removed, 
to occur again. The most common result is the inauguration 
of a filthy odorous discharge, which continues for a long period, 
vT breaks out at longer or shorter intervals. It is one of the 
common errors that these discharges will cease of their own 
accord, and another that there is danger attending their sup- 
pression. Neither proposition is true, or that, which is worse 
than all, that it is safe to perniit its continuance. 

• If a smi^U «pot on a linen cnmbrio liandkcrchicf is moistened with clilorofomi 
»i.'i ajipHed in front of the ear, and the head covered tliickly with flannel, the par- 
oiy-nis of pain will bo greatly mitigated, and frequently wholly relieved. The relief 
« Usually, but not always, temporary. 

114 The Hearing Ear. [January 


It is not strange that an impression should gain currency that 
it is dangerous to meddle with the ear in a condition of dis 
ease. It is true, that of the remedies usually resorted to 
scarcely any are proper. In relation to the ear there is less 
common sense em2)loyed by the public than concerning any- 
thing else. Tlie course usually pursued is thus stated in the 
book before referred to." Inflammation, accompanied with 
catarrh, is a frequent disease in early life. One is said to have 
a "cold in the head;" there is a singing or buzzing in the 
ears, and partial deafness ; upon coughing, sneezing, or blowing 
the nose there is a feeling as if something " cracked or gave 
way in the head." These attacks are frequent among children 
while attending school, in consequence, probably, in part, at 
least, of the alternations of heat and cold, produced by rapidly 
passing from the heated atmosphere of the school-room into 
the colder air of out-doors. If the habit and antecedents are 
scrofulous the result is often very serious, and the foundation 
is laid for deafness during all future years. The deafness thus 
originatinii is often attributed to inattention, and the time is 
allowed to pass by when it could have been treated advantage- 
ously. The friends of the patient excuse themselves by saying, 
" We thought it was only a cold, and it would not signify." 
This form of disease usually occurs between the ages of five 
and fifteen years. It is most common among the light-haired, 
fair-skinned, and blue-eyed children. There is little pain ; per- 
haps the only prominent symptom is deafness,^ 


Adults are frequently attacked in the same manner, espe- 
cially during the prevalence of epidemic influenza. These cases 
also result sometimes in permanent deafness if unrelieved. 
This condition of things may result in a discharge from the 
ear. It is very likely now to become the prominent, if not 
the only symptom of disease of the organ of hearing. If it 
continues it is because of a scrofulous habit in the patient or 
shameful neglect on tlie part of the parents or friends. It 
may run on till middle life, gradually, but surely, extinguishing 

* "Sight and Hearing: How Preserved, and how Lost."'. 

ISC>S.] The Hearing Ear. 115 

cvcrv hope of hearing. The discharge, if set up in the adult, 
U not likelj to be of long standing, and if early treated is 
easily cured. If we were to build a hospital for the deaf we 
should have inserted in a deeply engraved stone tablet, set 
pliiinly in the front wall, that all should see and read it, 
Ol'ftfa Princi^iis. 

It may as well be said right here as well as any where else, 
with regard to the diseases of hearing, that in almost every 
case there was a time when it was curable, and this time is 
ponerally ascertaindble. No affection of the ear is imimjportant, 
h^rause the most serious deafness occurs soynetimes with very 
little to observe. It is easy to cure at first, difficult afterward, 
and frequently impossible at a little later period. To return 
from the history of a case from which we digressed. The dis- 
cliarge sometimes begins with no pain. In the case of the 
cliild, frequently the first indication is a soil upon the pillow- The adult frequently discovers, by the accidental intro- 
duction of the finger, or the end of a pocket-handkerchief, that 
there is a slight degree of moisture. 

Perhaps an unpleasant smell is perceived, and the hearing, 
if the watch" is applied, would be found to be impaired. The 
ear is now crammed with cotton wool " to keep the cold out," 
and the disease progresses unnotiped and unremedied. If 
deafness is perceived, it is said by some one, " It is very dan- 
perous to meddle with the ear ;" by another, " it will wear 
f'ff;" and by a third, "it will not do to stop the discharge." 
^Miile the patient gives ear to this varied advice, confident 
U'cause ignorant, precious time is passing, and at length, if 
proper treatment is resorted to, only partial hearing can be 

We dismiss the subject of discharges from the ear with a 
quotation from the work before referred to: 

Notwithstanding, the dis* usually does continue, sometimes^ 
for a considerable period, without much increase or diminution of 
tlio discharge ; but frequently it increases, becomes thick and ropy, 
<>f a yellow color, sometimes little and sometimes much ; at length 
it becomes thin, sometimes white and flaky, saturating the pillow 
at ni^^ht, emitting a fetid smell, and the ear presenting a disgust- 
ing appearance. The disease in some cases extends itself to the 

• The porfoct hoaring ear should appreciate the tick of a good lever watch at the 
djlance of abo\it thirty-sii inches. 

116 ' The Hearing Ear. ~ [January, 

iutiicate bony structure of the ear, destroying tbe organ, producing 
incurable deafness of course, and is sometimes succeeded by pa- 
ralysis of that side, with a sinking of the general health. In some 
cases disease of the brain supervenes, terminating the life of the 
patient. All these may result from what is regarded as only a 
slight running from the ear. It is a standing wonder how sensible 
people can pass along through life with such a loathsome disease 
about them. It would be supposed that the unpleasant smell, if 
there was not much ringing or deafness, and tb.e disease did not 
make sensible progress, would induce resort to means of cure. 
Many endeavor to conceal the affection, and others permit foolish 
prejudices to prevent their seeking competent advice. As has 
been before said, a scrofulous constitution usually furnishes the 
exciting cause of discharges from the ear. They frerpiently occur 
after scarlet fever, measles, smnll-pox ; or, indeed, fevers of any 
description, or long sicknesses may produce it. In infancy, over- 
feeding, or insufficient diet, or the introduction of foreign bodies 
into the car, or improper use of the syringe, or ear-pick, may 
prove exciting causes. Culd bathing is a frequent cause of this 
disease. It seems frequently to date from some plunge made into 
the river during the boyhood of the patient. In all these cases, 
when left to " outgrow it," the expectation is sometimes realized, 
but often with total loss of hearing on the side affected. Thrre is 
110 more Jijfl-idtij in ar/'cstin[/ f/u:se discharges and effecting a cure 
than in rdi*?i'ing any other .cur able disease. One of the greatest 
diliiculties, however, is the popular prejudices which it is necessary 
to encounter. This disease is not always curable, and the cure is 
always tedious, and sometimes difficult. It requires care and 
attention on the part of the surgeon and the parent, and these 
attentions must be protracted and assiduous. — Sight and Hearing^ 
p. 278. 


Perhaps this is tlie must opportune place to enter our ju-u 
test against stutling the ears. It is not true that there is any 
danger of "■'taking cold in them."'' If God liad intended that 
they should be stuffed lie would have furnished a cover. The 
tortuous canal, the wax and hairs, together with the projecting 
auricle, is all the protection nccessafy. If nothing worse than 
air enters, little mischief will be produced, while the introduc- 
tiou of stuffing produces incalculable disorders. It irritates 
the delicate lining membrane of the canal. It heats the parts. 
It deranges the delicate glandular apparatus beneath the 
lining of tho canal. It changes the shape of the canal. It 
obstructs the due performance of the functions of the canal 
and drum. We have seen cases in which we coidd introduce 


1$(J3.] The Hearing Ear. 117 

tlie thumb, the canal had become so much enlarged ; and we 
have removed bits of cotton wliich had had a lodgement for 
many years. This is a very old notion. In the ancient days 
of England it was believed that the wool from the left forefoot 
of a Bix-year-old black ram, when stnffed into the ear, liad 
wonderful virtue. "We use cotton nowadays just as causelessly, 
and with no more reason. We never saw a patient benefited. 
by it, and have seen many made worse. TVe lately cured a 
case of deafness of long standing by simply removing a plug of 
cotton which was resting on the drum ; the filaments of the 
cotton had united with the wax to make a hard lump, 


We now reach the tympanum, or drum, so called from its 
rt-scmblance to a drum head. This wonderful drum is tightly 
stretched across at the bottom of the dark canal, glistening 
like a glow-worm when examined. It is not easy in many 
|>erson8 to see it without the aid of an instrument. If the sub- 
ject of disease, singing, ringing, sighing, or hissing sounds are 
produced. An engineer tells us they are like "the exhaust 
^t4:•am from an engine ;" and an Irish woman says, " it seems 
ui if all the tay-kettles in Ireland were hissing in her ears ;"" 
another speaks of the buzzing of bees, and another of the ringing 
"f bells. It seems to depend upon what sounds the patient has 
l>c-cn familiar with in health. " Ringing in the ears" is caused 
by other derangements than a diseased condition of the drum,. 
fw will be seen when we reach that point. Diseases of j:he 
I'rain, dyspepsia, the accumulation of wax, and a variety of 
otlier causes, may produce this distressing symptom. In some 
f iK-s the drum is destroyed by disease or accident. In such 
runt's it may be artificially supplied. This was done in 1812 
by \earsley, of England, who used for this purpose a plug of' 
futton. Toynbee used i-ubber. An artificial tympanum has 
\*i.iin prepared by the instrument maker before alluded to at 
our suggestion, and which he calls " Dr. Clark's Elliptical 
Tympanum." It differs from others in the material used, in 
J''« elliptical form and bent staff. Others have a straight' 
•••'iiff, and are round. We have found it of frreat service • 

. o 

^■ij«-*re the drum was destroyed by scarlatina, or. from, any,- 
^'ther cause. 

Euiimi Skuies, Vol. XY.— 8 


The Hearing Ear. 



Reference to fig. 4 will enable tlie reader to get some idea 
of the internal mechanism' of the ear * 

Kg. 4. 

We now pass beyond unprofessional ken into regions the 
demonstration of which requires the anatomist's knife, and of 
which we know little, except by carefully obser\-ed phenom- 
ena. "We enter," in tlie language of another, "a round, well- 
Btored chamber, filled with ever-renewed air, and deeply 
ensconced in the interior of the bones that form our temples. 
Safely protected without, it has a door within, and a tubular 
passage that leads right ihto the mouth, through which a 
current of air is ever passing into the little apartment. . . . 
The furniture of this little chamber consists of three myste- 
rious bones, of oddisli shape and imknown purpose. Their 
names resembli) actual things. The hammer is closely fastened 
to the drum, and serves, besides other purposes, to stretch and 

* Explanation. — The extornal ear is again exhibited. No. 1 points out the canal 
leading to the drum; No. 2 tlio inner surface of the tympanum, or drum; No. 3 the 
eustachian tube ; No. 4 tiio cocldea ; No. 5 the vestibule ; No. 6 the malleus, one 
of the four little bono3 which, together, are termed the ossicular, which hinge on to 
«ach other, and materially assist the function of hearing ; No 7 the incus, another 
of these little bones ; No. 8 tlie os obiculare ; No. 9 the stapes. This is named from 
its resemblance to a stirrup, and is the last of tliat little group of bones. No. 10 
and the lines leading from it indicate the positioa of the semicircular canals. 

IbOa.l The Hearing Ear. 119 

relax it, according to the nature of the sounds it receives." 
This fanciful -svriter thus describes the innermost chamber: 
•* The inner secret chamber is a wonderful room, deep in the 
vcr}- heart of our head, set in the stilf solitude of rocklike bone, 
which no ordinary knife can cut. This tiny room is filled 
with pure limpid water, and branches off on one side through 
double openings into three wonderful archways, and, on the. 
otht'r, into the cochlea, which closely resembles the tortuous 
walls of a snail's peculiar house." 

It is for no practical purpose that we lead the popular 
reader into the internal mechanism of the ear. We little 
know t^ie uses to which all this intricate mechanism is applied. 
The same writer has, in a most happy manner, drawn upon 
his imagination to supply what was needed to add to our 
knowledge, and makes a hypothesis pleasing and interesting, 
and the truthfulness of which no one can deny if they do 
not admit. He thus sums up tlic process of hearing : 

A concussion without moves the atmosphere, which rises and 
falls, like the waters of the ocean, in waves that spread to all sides, 
until they meet with resistance. They enter the outward ear, 
I'.'i^s throngli the outward channel, and strike against the first 
«lt>or, the drum. This delicate curtain moves under the pressure, 
aii'l sots the three tiny bones in motion. 

The hammer pushes the anvil, the anvil pushes the stirrup, 
and the stirrup, pressing with its Jower'end upon the. closed door. 
«'f tlie innermost chamber, communicates thus the commotion to 
th'^ wjiter that fills the labyrinth. The liquid, rising in miniature 
*:ives, which still correspond, it is said, with amazing accuracy 
to the airy waves without, touches, -as it rises and falls, the dcli- 
■"•'it<' ctids of the nerves, and this simple mechanical contact, spirit- 
u:ili/ed at the instant in which it passes from the nerves to the 
inirii], is changed from a silent, lifeless undulation of air into a living, 
•^ouft'linrr impression, 

Tt is oidy very recently that there has been made an attempt 
to imitate the internal mechanism of the ear. The essay of 
the aiu-ient tyrant, Dionysius, did not extend beyond the 
cxtt-rnal aj. pondages of the organ. A patient German, Mr. 
li' i^Sof Fredericksdorp, near Frankfort-on-the-i^raine, has pro- 
du.-<:d a machine so representing tlic internal structure as to 
f lT<Mhicc sounds. Words have not yet been articulated, but 
I'rufcsaor Bottingen believes that such a result will be 

120 TJie Hearing Ear. [January, 


The mysterious transmitted cause inherited from the parent, or 
perhaps farther back, or from some collateral line of antecedent 
ancestry, is the most common, and the most difficult to obviate. 

Scrofulous antecedents intensify, and scrofulous disorder 
produces diseases of the car, especially in childhood, from the 
time of cutting teeth up to " the teens," and beyond. 

The exciting causes for the most part are three. Cox- 
CUSSION, as by lloics, falls, sharp and loud noises, which were 
unexpected by the patient. The Application of Cold. Cold 
Hosts, currents of air, sleeping on the ground. As " examining 
surgeon for applicants for pension," these cases often come 
under our observation ; incautious bathing, especially diving. 
Poisons are of two kinds, one constitutional, and the other 
local. Of the first class the most common are the results of, 
fevers, generally the irruptive, as scarlatina, measles, small- 
pox, or typhus, rheumatic or bilious fevers. Gout, or exhaust- 
ive disease of any kind, mental excitements, general bodily 
debility, over-exertion, want of sleep, all are among the 
constitutional causes. Some of this class of cases are much 
aggravated by the habitual use of cofiee and tea. Of the local 
morbid influences the most prominent is the introduction of 
foreign bodies into the ear, such as tinctures, irritating injec- 
tions, cotton, wool, or the accumulation of wax as the conse- 
quence of diseased action. This last cause is not to be obviated 
by the ear-shovel. The ear never needs " cleaiiing out.'''' 

ringing in the ears. 
This distressing symptom is present in very many affections 
of the ear. If the case is recent it indicates inflammation or 
congestion in some degree. If otherwise, it may be an aber- 
ration of function in consequence of derangement of the 
nervous apparatus connected with this intricate organ. It has 
been before alluded to as a symptom. It is the most distress- 
ing of the group of symptoms that annoy the afflicted with 
deafness. If recent it is never unhnportant, and advice should 
be sought. It may be a symptom of brain derangement ; if so 
remedies will avail nothing, unless directed by a well-educated 
medical adviser. 

1863 J The Heanng Ear. 121 

It may be only one of the protean indications of dyspepsia. 
If tliis paper falls in the hands of one who has ringing in the 
cars, with some pain or pressure about the ear, an application 
of croton oil, used very carefully, behind the ear, often enough 
to maintain a crop of pimples on a spot the size of a dime for 
a week, will often dispose of the trouble. External applica- 
tions only are safe without advice. It is not safe to jpiit any- 
thing into the ear unless directed by competent authority. In 
A word, keep away from an open window when it is colder out- 
pide than in ; and when the ears are diseased hands of\ and 
beware of unprofessional advisers. "Everybody" knows 
"something good," and by the time everybody is tried the 
hearing is gone. 


The delicacy and intricacy of the ear, the obscm-ity of most 
of its disorders, and the hopeless character of many of the 
bailments to which it is subject, has made it a favorite subject 
for medical charlatanry and imposture for many years and in 
many cities. Persons who are deaf are credulous beyond 
belief. A very little tact and much rascality are only neces- 
sary to set up one of those pretended advertising ear doctors 
vho practice wickedly upon the credulity of the deaf. They 
excite hopes and expectations which they know cannot be 
reahzed, and having secured a good fee by lying certificates, 
the duped patient is deceived. There are various ways in 
which a patient may be benefited for the time being, and may 
Ikj made to helieve that he is improving. Eespectable men 
will not resort to any of these tricks, nor declare that a hope- 
less case is curable. 

On this subject an able author well says : 

If anybody should venture to offer to the public an arcanum, a 
few drops of which, poured into a watch, would repair the broken 
wheel or the rusty chain, regulate its accuracy, and restore it to 
first perfection, Avould he not be received with sneers and seoifs, 
and rejiroaehf.l with a desire to insult our common sense':' And 
yet we have seen, but of late, grave, honored physicians who pro- 
claimed aloud that they possessed the secret of a powder, or an 
t'il. or a little tube to be put into the ears, or a magnet suspended 
behind it, that would cure, witliout doubt, all possible ills to which 
ihe ear is heir? Nothing but a melancholy indilVerence to the 
wonder of our own body, " made after Ilis image,"' could produce 
»uch errors and make us endure such announcements. We forget 

122 The Bearing Ear. [January, 

that " the hearing ear and the seeing eye, the Lord hath made even 

both of them." 


The introduction of various vapore into the ear by means of 
Bhowy bric'ht, shining metal instruments is only a method 
of conspicuously doing mischief If this was the proper place, 
we could -furnish many examples proving that irreparable 
injury has been done by this means. It is the resort of quacks, 
who having received a fee in advance, feel obliged to do 
something when nothing should be done. The regular pro- 
fession have long since abandoned this treatment us dangerous. 
In this way the quack very often robs the patient of the little 
hearin<- that he has, which to him is very far more precious 
than the gold filched from him. Discredit is also thrown 
upon all sorts of treatment for diseases of the ear. The dis- 
criminating physician will guard with great care the hearing 
faculty that remains, and will never risk anything m the hop» 
of increasing it. 


Beethoven says that " music is the mediator between the 
essential and spiritual life." There is a surprising difference 
between us with regard to the appreciation of musical sounds. 
While Geotry danced when a child to the sounds of falling 
water, and Mozart, when three years of age, smiled .to the 
harmony of the vibrations of the clavichord when touched by 
his infant lingers, many persons never gain an appreciation of 
musical sounds. Many belong to tlic class of whom Eyron says, 

" lu fact, he has no sniy:lng education; 

An ignorant, noteless, timeless, tuneless fellow." 

This subject, if entered upon, would lead us far beyond the 
limits proper in such a paper as this. We apprehend that the 
musical ear, after all, depends most materially upon the quali- 
ties of the mind. We believe that this wonderful faculty has 
less to do with the material car than many suppose. IMusic, 
like poetry, painting, sculpture, oratory, and ventriloquism, is 
an unexplainable direct gift of God.* An accomplished 

* A recent number of the Atlantic 3font}ily contains an extraordinary account 
of " Blikd Tow," a black, blind, idiotic slave, who in very childhood climbed on the 
niiKsic stool and played the most diilicult compositions that ho had heard, to tiia 
BStonislimeut of all. His master, after its discovery, exhibited him with great profit. 

Ig63.] The Hearing Ear. 123 

musical composer is able to form in liis mind, ^\'itl^out the aid 
vi any instrument, tlie whole plan and detail of a complicated 
t»lcce of harmony before he writes a note of it. In his mind's 
eye he sees the whole score. In his mind's ear he hears 
the full efiect which the piece would produce if performed. 
Beethoven composed his latest work ichaifor ijcars he had been 
vcrfccily deaf. Of many of his best works he never heard a 
tingle note, xso fui'ther proof is necessary to illustrate the 
proposition that the mind is mainly concerned in the per- 
formance of the ear. In conclusion, in order to the full con- 
sideration of the subject, it seems necessary to say something 
of the subject of 


Considering the very intricate structure of the ear, it can be 
no cause of wonder that it should be often fatally imperfect. 
Muteism may result from some defect in the brain, from con- 
. genital or accidental deficiency in the ears, or want of due 
]»ower in the organs of spe4&eh, or the nerve power which is 
necessary to enable the ears to appreciate sounds. By far the 
most common cause is deafness congenital, or acquired in early 
life. The loss of speech is a consequence, for speech is an 
imitative art, and is regulated by the sound of the voice. It 
was formerly attributed to defect in the tongue, but that the 
fault is in the ear is now an established fact. It is probable 
that the world contains one million of deaf mutes, a very small 
part of which enjoys the benefit of education. The distribu- 
tion of deaf mutes throughout the -w-orld is very unequal. 
Other constitutional ailments are common where these cases 
arc the most numerous. In Switzerland it is most common in 
those valleys where Cretinism most abounds. 

It is difiieult, often impossible, in cases of congenital muteism 
to determine which is in fault, the ear or the brain. A little- 
reflection will satisfy all that we are largely dependent upon 
the car for the power of definite utterance. An eloquent 
author remarks : "We see that speech — so simple, and beauti- 
ful, and powerful, by which the poets and historians of Greece,, 
witli the peerless language of Helen, roused their countrymen 
at the Olympic Games; by which Demosthenes ruled tlie 
Areopagus and Cicero the bar of ancient Home; by which 
Fletcher and Massillon thrilled the cathedrals of France, and 

124 The Hearing Ear. [January, 

Chatham and Fox the Senate-house of England — although 
- apparently so easy; and as if natural to man, is, when viewed 
physiologically, a very complicated art, requiring, on the part 
of the human being, that peculiar power so significantly alluded 
to by Anacreon as the privilege of voice-dividing men ;" 
while, for the display of this power, the harmonious combina- 
tion of a series of curious movements, performed by equally 
curious mechanism, is at all times essentially necessary. 


If any one desires to hear an indistinct sound he instinctively 
places his half-closed palm edgewise behind the auricle. All 
contrivances which arc of any value are merely a modification 
of the additional auricle tlius improvised. 

Instruipents are made of tin, ivory, shell, rubber, gold, Ger- 
man silver, platina, Molucca wood, etc., for this purpose. Their 
use dates back into the misty past beyond the reach of inquiry. 
Yery much ingenuity has been employed in the endeavor to 
supply aid to the deaf, and' to strengthen exhausted or diseased 
nervous structure, 


Are found in the instrument stores which have a useful look, 
but are a worthless contrivance. They are intended to straighten 
the canal and to open it more fully, so as to permit the sounds 
to enter. K all is right at the other end of the canal the pas- 
sage requires no such attention. It may bo possible that a case 
of occlusion might be benefited, but such a case would not 
oftener occur than once in a century. 

Fig. 6. 

Fig. 5 exhibits the ordinary car-trumpet, that which will 
probably never be superseded, and which forms the basis of 


The Hearing Eofr. 


h11 others.* Its only objection is its unsightliness. It onglit to 
bo generally understood that the best instrument, the one that 
most aids the deaf, is and mufit le large^ and of necessity con- 
^^licuou5. The unsightly, so called, trumpet (only because it 
n-scmbles a trumpet in appearance) is the only instrument that 
will enable the very deaf to hear conversation in an apartment, 
or gather the sounds from several voices at the same time. 

Fig. 6. 

The above figure will exhibit a modilieation of the trumpet; 
a little less unsightly, and probably a little less excellent with 
rt-gard to the aid afibrded. The conversation tube will accom- 
plish the j^me purpose in communicating with a single individual. 

The deaf are very sensitive Avitli regard to their infirmity. 
They shrink from exposing it to all passers-by, as do those who 
carry with them in the streets and the place of assembly the 
1-irgo ojxiu-mouth " trumpet." 

Various methods have been employed to furnisb the same 
rvlief without the objection just stated, and with some degree 
"f success, especially in regard to those who are not very deaf. 
Tljis very " trumpet" is so modified as to be portable, and not 
Conspicuous when not in use. It is shown in fig. Y.f 
Fig. n. 

This iiistnuneut when in use is practically the same as that 
♦ huwii in figure 5, although necessarily smaller in size. When 
H'.-l Vised it folds so small that it may be put into the pocket or 
into a lady's reticule. It is called the "telescope trumpet," 

Ttiln c■f;^,Tavinf^ and the next, as well as the "auricles," (fig. 9,) was fumiahed 
h Mr. IL lIiERssTiEK, of New York. 
t i'umiHlied by Tiemann & Co. ♦ 


The Hearing Ear. 


because it is composed of concentric rings, which are beveled in 
Buch manner as to fall together if loosened, and when ex- 
tended fasten themselves readily, forming as complete a trmn- 
pet as that represented in fig. 5. 

This is a very useful instrument. The principle upon which 
this is made was suggested to us by the editor of this Journal, 
before it was known to him or to the author, that it had been 
before preseuted to the public. ' We are indebted also to him 
for the first suggestion which resulted in the instrument that 
we next introduce to our readers. This was made imder our 
direction by Tiemanu & Co., and they call it 


,It is a combination of the cane, ear- 
trumpet, and conversation-tube. The dia- 
gram (fig. S) exhibits the instrument in the 
right-haud figure as a neat, genteel walking 
cane, with a somewhat clumsy hand:piece, 
still easily grasped by a hand of some size. 
The left-hand figure exhibits an ear-trumpet, 
the cover being readily removed from the 
bell-shaped extremity by merely touching a 
spring, wliile from near the bottom of the 
cane a spring throws out an ivory ear-piece, 
which the patient readily applies to the ear. 

"When so applied, by merely extending the 
instnunent in the manner of holding a long 
pipe, the very best conversation-tube is fur- 
nished. Sound, like light, travels best in 
straight lines. The necessary convolutions of 
the ordinary conversation-tube make it less excellent for that 
purpose than this instrument, as well as very much less con- 

This trumpet is changed back to a cane in a single second. 
It must be, we think, that it supplies an important want. 

The following engraving exhibits anotlier of the many con- 
trivances to make the deaf hear by mechanical means. This is 
also furnished by IIieni?tien.* It is, as are all the others, a 

* Persons from a distauec maj confidently order ear-trumpota of H. Hiernsties, 
and Georoe Tiemann & Co., of New York, also of Benjamin Pike & Son, of New 

1863.] ^^ Rearing Ear. 127 

Fig. 9. 

modification of the instrument represented by figure 5. It con- 
sists of two small artificial auricles, wliicli answer about the 
purpose of both hands placed behind the ear in the manner 
before suggested. They dress under the hair, so that ladies can 
fK?rfectly conceal them, as well as men who wear very long 
hair. In cases where the deafness is not very considerable they 
answer a good purpose. 


The instrument which we have described is further modified 
Hi as to gather sounds to be conveyed to a distance. jVIr. D. D. 
Slelle, a Jerseyman, has patented a method of applying the 
instrument so as to enable the deaf to hear in a public audience- 
room, lie calls it " The Phonophorus." It consists merely of 
a gigantic ear-trumpet, placed behind the desk or pulpit in 
puch a manner that its open mouth looks upward, presenting 
llic appearance of a large tin kettle. It is covered by a grate- 
ing, which answers the purpose of a desk-board. The sound of 
the speaker's voice falls upon the desk, and entering the huge 
auricle is conveyed away, and is communicated under the 
l^>"r in exactly the manner that sound is transmitted in'con- 
vtr.-ation-tubes to the very pews, where, amid the upholstery, is 
artfully liidden away the terminal end, adjusted so as to be 
readily applied to the ear of the deaf hearer, putting him in 
CMiiinumication v.'ith the speaker. "We have seen it applied to 
rliairs and tables, and see no reason why it might not be as 
well iiJnpted to any other piece of furniture. Of course, sounds 
once collected 'can be made to travel considerable distances. 
Of this wo have many familiar examples. The reason that 
K»me rooms are "whispering galleries," and convey sounds 
Vork; or M'Allister Brothers, of Philadelphia, both of whom have long enjoyed 
»n inherited reputation in all that relates to aids to the eye-sight. They have not 
fjrgviten that men also have ears. 

128 TTie Hearing Ear. [January, 

readily, is because they are really immense auricles. That we 
cannot so construct all apartments is because the principles of 
acoustics are even now but little understood. Just here is an 
opportunity for some Sir Isaac Newton, yet to be bom, to gain 
immortality. Indeed, there is abundant room for many Xew- 
tons still, before we have exliausted any branch of science, 


There is no little art in properly conversing with deaf per- 
sons in order to be heard easily. Most persons speak to the 
deaf in a quick, sharp tone on a high key. This is the very 
worst method possible. Persons not totally deaf hear a large 
part of the sentence. It is the lower cadences, as the voice is 
dropped at the coirTma or period, with an unaccented word or 
syllable, which is the part unheard ; that being missed the deaf 
person asks a repetition. If the reply is made in a louder tone, 
on a higher key, enforcing the emphatic words, (which he heard 
distinctly before,) and slurring over the same cadences, he is as 
badly oli' as ever. Just the parts he heard you have screamed 
quickly and vociferously, and the parts he did 7iot hear you 
muttered again. 

Distance and distinctness of voice make a very great differ- 
ence. Many persons can hear perfectly well an utterance from 
a few indies, which is totally unintelligible one or two yards 
distant. They can also easily hear utterances made directly 
toward them, which they lose entirely if you avert your face. 
The more direct the lines of sound toward the ear the more 
easy is it for the deaf auditor to understand. 


If the friends of the deaf are boimd to be kind and forbear- 
ing, so ought the deaf themselves to exercise patience and for- 
bearance. They should cultivate an unsuspicious disposition 
and a kindness of manner, the more because these virtues are 
with difficulty cultivated by the deaf, who live in a world of 
silence and solitude, which is always distressing. 

The deaf should not permit undue sensitiveness to induce 
them to postpone the use of the trumpet, in some form, after it 
has been found difficult to communicate. 

1803.3 EgtLati<m of Prdbatioiial Advantages. 129 


Of the three great generic difficulties of Arminianism, enu- 
uierated by Dr. Hill in his theology, the first is drawn from 
the fact that a large share of mankind never having heard of 
Christ are, even by Aj-minian concession, excluded from the 
means, and so from the possible attainment of salvation 
llirouf'h him. AJter all your efforts to maintain the freedom 
of the human vd\\ (such is in effect his argument,) and your 
rejection of the justice of condemnation -without a previous 
jruwer to attain salvation, men are, by a sort of historical repro- 
l.ation, damned without ever having possessed the power of 
bving saved. Anticalvinian writers early appreciated this 
diliiculty and furnished their answers. Perhaps the ablest and 
fullest discussion, on the Ai-minian side, is the treatise of Cur- 
cellaius. Be Necessitate Cognitionis Christi ad Salutew., written 
iu reply to Maresius, who took the high Calvinian ground of 
the universal danmation of all not possessing actual faith in 
Christ. Cm- early Arminian-AYesleyan theologians have given 
llic subject a few clear but incidental touches ; but the spirit 
ut' our times requires, perhaps, a renewed and more elaborate 

Other than Arminian tlieologians have advocated explanatory 
theories. One class has adopted the theory of restorationism, 
by which penalty is graduated to the guilt by the length as well 
:t.s tlie drgree of infliction. Others, as Miiller in his Doctrine 
of Sin, conceiving that our Protestant eschatology is too stern, 
have preferred a theory, not of purgatory precisely, but of a 
means of knowledge and repentance in the intermediate state 
for tliose who are excluded therefrom during life. A third 
cla.>s embraces the doctrine of annihilationism, according to 
vhU-h, all who fail to fulfill the conditions of a real probation 
tiniply rela})se into the non-existence from which they were 
l»njught by human birth. Could either one of these theories 
Ik.* proved it would obviate the Cal\-inian argument. It is our 
pres-ent purpose neither to refute their claims nor to adopt 
liit.'ir method of solution. 

We may in the first place remark that Dr. Hill's argument 

130 Equation of Prohational Advantages. [January, 

is a most dangerous weapon for Calvinism, since it involves a 
complete admission of the accuracy and justice of one of the 
Btronf-est objections against that system. His argument clearly 
avows a reprobation in which there has never been in the sub- 
ject any power to attain salvation. xVfter all the Calvinian 
talk of the freedom of the human will, damnation is confessrMy 
accorded imthoxd the slightest freedom in the loill to escape it. 
For if men are historically reprobated by absolute exclusion 
from all knowledge of Christ, how is salvation ever in reach of 
their free-will ? 

Arminianism is not required to affirm an absolute and pre- 
cise equality of privileges and means of salvation to all the 
race. What she does affirm is, that justice is done in every 
individual case. We may perhaps express the true ground in 
the following brief statement: 

Although there is not a perfect equation of the means and 
advantages among all mankind, yet it may be affirmed that no 
man is ever condemned to cvei^lasting death who has not enjoyed 
FULL MEANS and orpORTUNiTY/or salvation, and has willfully 
rejected them hy persevering iii a course of conscious sin. The 
inequalities of advantage for salvation are in a great degree 
obviated by the fact that the amount of advantage is an import- 
ant element in the graduation of penalty and reward. Such 
may be the proportion of moral demand for higher excellence, 
and such the liability to deeper penalty for misimprovement, 
that classes of mankind favored with higher means are perhaps 
on a wise calculation at a level with the apparently less priv- 
ileged. Or conversely, the parts of mankind po>sc5scd of infe- 
rior means may be so compensated by proportionate allowances 
that they may be on an actual level of advantage with their 
apparently more favored^ fellows. 

Without the limits of the proper Christian dispensation but 
two others require consideration, namely, first, what we will 
call the Infantile Irresponsible, or Undeveloped Dispensation, 
embracino- all minds not developed to the conditions of a moral 
accountability ; and second, the Heathen Dispensation, embrac- 
ing all excluded from all possible knowledge of Christianity. 

I. A larce mass, if not a majority of mankind, are said 
liitlicrto to have died in infancy, including under that 
description all who do not attain a responsible age. This dis- 

1SC3.1 E^uatian of Probational Advantages. 131 

•K-n-ition then is, perhaps, scarce less populous than all the 
otl,ors inclusive. This is a most mysterious point m the divine, of .vhich it is no part of our present purpose 
10 attempt an explanation, that in a world of probation, so large 
a proportion should be abortive as subjects of pro])ation 
N\.vcrtheless up to a responsible age the manifestations ot siulul 
nature, the sinful thoughts and actions, subject not the being to 
iKjiial retribution. . ^ ^ \' a 

But, irrespective of age, is there not a large class of mankind 
who-c moral and intellectual nature lias never attained a devel- 
opment to the level of responsibility ? The reflections of thmkers 
on this subject have, it may be, rested too much on the point ot . 
vxcre age. If there are millions Tvho die before arriving at the 
nurnial responsible age, there are other millions who never at any 
R"c arrive at a more responsible mental development than the 
infant. Under this head we should not perhaps include idiots 
alone. But is there not within the bounds and perhaps in. the 
center of Christendom itself a countless class, accurately gauged 
by tlie eye of Omniscience alone, whose minds are as little 
expanded, and as little qualified, intellectually or morally, tor 
the responsibilities of probation, if not as the idiot, certainly as 
the cliikU As our minds are liable to be intluenCed by indi- 
vidual chronology in the matter of responsible development, 
" K) we are apt to limit the heathen dispensation by geographi- 
cal limits alone. But within the bosom of Christendom there is 
an immense class adult in years but apparently entitled to 
the moral immunity of infancy ; geographically Christian, but 
'.vlth as little access to a true Christianity as the most distant 
hvathenism— Heathendom in Christendom. Excluded perhaps 
by invincible barriers from any possible knowledge of the truth 
• as a very idiot, unwarned and unconscious that there is any 
truth to be sought, they seem incapable of being held to a ju>t 
penal responsibility. In the dregs of our large cities, it is 
impossible to sav what numbers there are whom we hardly can 
drrido whether "'thev are to be assigned to the infant and idiot 
di -pon^ation or to llcathendom. To decide this in most living 
individual cases would require an Omniscient knowledge of 
lli'Ir interior man and entire spiritual history. Each single 
Hvitig pn.blem must stand unsolved. Each man is, in a degree. 
by hinisclt' a dispensation. But what is the ultimate destiny ? 

132 Equation of Probational Advantages. [January, 

Precisely the same, we reply, with that of the infant. The 
creeds which teach infant damnation should mate a clean 
sweep of the whole ; while in our view they are all on the same 
basis of common redemption. The infant is in the kingdom 
of God with a character perhaps correspondent to regeneration 
in the adult. The irresponsible adult, however incrusted in 
irresponsible sins, is redeemed by an unknown Saviom*. Both 
alike may be least in the kingdom of heaven ; neither can, by 
the law of moral equation, be excluded from it. 

II. But geographically distant from Christian lands, in a 
real Heathendom, there are those who never heard of Christ, 
in regard to whom the question arises, TThat are their advant- 
ages for attaining eternal life ? To attempt deciding this per- 
emptorily in the individual instances as they occur in experi- 
ence would be assuming the prerogative of Omniscience. But 
the general principles of a just responsibility may perhaps be 
proximately ascertained. 

AVe assume the headship of Chi'ist over the human race, 
placing on the basis of his atonement all mankind under a regi- 
men of just and merciful probation, suited to the present 
nature and state of our humanity, cognizing all the shades 
of human life, circumstances, and character, and adjusting 
with absolute accuracy tlie retribution of reward or penalty 
to the case. We assmne the universality of the atonement, and 
that millions may be saved by its means who never heard the 
name of the Propitiator, "We assume the universality of the 
dispensation of the Spirit. We assume the universal possession 
of the faculties of reason inferring a Creator from the creation, 
a conscience furnishing the dictates of right and wrong. The 
reason may not reveal a Creator in the fullness of his attributes, 
nor even prevent the worship of a God through finite symbols . 
and images, which the Scriptures, given for the very purpose 
of maintaining the pure idea of the Deity, proliibit as idolatry^ 
under severest penalty, especially to the chosen race, whose 
special mission was, the preservation of the pure idea for the 
development of future ages. The conscience may not furnish 
an absolutely accurate code of ethics ; but it furnishes princi- 
ples which are relatively to the individual right, and safe in 
the eye of God for him to follow. If under the guidance 
of that reason he follows the dictates of that conscience, the 

16C3.] Equation of Prob'ational Advantages. 133 

man, though absolutely wrong on many points, will under 
our gracious dispensation be right so far as responsibility and 
future destiny are concerned. Such a man will act under many 
n Kid delusion and commit many things intrinsically wrong ; 
hut the saving fact is that he acts with a purpose which want^i 
li:( the light of truth in order to his being truly right. In such 
ji case, though there is not the reality of Christian faith and 
riglitoousness, yet there are two things, namely, what we will 
call the SPIRIT OF FAITH and the purpose of righteousnp:ss. 
AVhcre these two exist in the man, under any dispensation, he is 
jusfifed through the atoiuraent and accepted of God. 

The doctrine of the grades of future retribution adjusted to 
tlic varieties of probationary character is abundantly taught in 
Scripture. Scripture rule is, that we are rewarded according 
to our worl's. Of the blessed, we are taught that in the resur- 
ri'ction one star differeth from another in glory, (1 Cor. xv, 41 ;) 
liiat there is a greatest and a least in the kingdom of heaven, 
<'Matt. V, 19 ;) that some attain an abundant entrance, (2 Peter 
i, 1 1 ;) and some are scarce saved, (1 Peter iv, IS.) Of the con- 
dvumed we are told that he that knew his Master's will and 
'^id it not shall be beaten with many stripes; while he that 
l.iicw not his Master's will, and through neglecting the law of' 
C'ju.-cience showed not the works of the law, shall be beaten with 
Juuny Btripes, (Luke xii, 47.) And once for all the rule is laid. 
<'.uwn, " Unto whomsoever much is given shall be much' 
f'-'iuired," (Luke xii, 48.) And this rule is illustrated by tlie 
<*.i't that in the parable of the talents (Matt, xxv, 14-30) the 
r« Wards were adjusted to the amount of improvement, and the 
'i:ii.)unt of improvement proportioned to the capital furnished 
^«.-> completely accepted, while the reward was proportioned; 
.t'j loth. 

Our Saviour (Matt, xi, 20-24) declares that it would be mure 
J-'Ierable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judgment 
tliUM for the cities who had witnessed his preaching and mighty 
^'•rks ; since Sodom with such advantages woiild, like Nineveh,. 
•-ive "repented in sackcloth and ashes," From this we may 
i'Uir, 1. That all people have not equal advantages for salva- 
i!..ii ; 2. Tliat those who receive the highest advantages may 
''wcrthclcss reject salvation; 3. That God nuiy discern in the 
»"uuls of those who possess inferior advantages that »pirit or 

lV.L'UTn Sekiks, Vol. XV.— 9 

134: Equation of Prdbational Advantages. [January, 

wUl of faith by which in the day of their visitation they would 
have accepted had Christ in fullness been .presented ; 4. That 
such a disposition to faith diminishes their guilt and subtracts 
from their penalty ; 5. That the degree of advantage, %yhen 
rejected, heightens the guilt and adds a proportional segment to 
the amount of penalty ; G, That Sodom was not the worst city 
conceivable, since they had at least in some part of their his- 
tory the spirit of faith ; but not possessing the concrete object 
of faith, their faith was culpably defective, not being verified 
by the puiyose ' of righteous7iess. On the contrary, in the 
absence of a concrete and cognizable Eedeemer and Judge they 
renounced not only all efficient faith, but all righteousness, and 
gave themselves over to all uncleanness. 

1. Of the SPIRIT OF FAITH it may be said that though it is not 
a perfect faitli in Christ yet it is a faith more or less distinct, 
recognized by the searcher of hearts and trier of the reins, in 
that of -which Christ is the concrete and the embodiment. It may 
be safely assumed that if the true Eedeemer were presented in 
proper correlation to that faith at the moment of its full exist- 
ence he would be cordially accepted. Ilence Christ is presented 
to the world as a test to the true ring of the moral purpose. He 
" is set for the fall and rising again of many, that the thouglits 
of many hearts may be revealed." Luke ii, 34, 35. JPor judg- 
vient came he into the icorld^ that theg lohich see not might see ; 
and that they which see, corruptly and falsely, might be 77iade 
blind. John ix, 39. The splendid catalogue of saints enumerated 
in the eleventh cliapter of Hebrews- had at best but a dim concep- 
tion of the redemptive concrete object of faitli ; some of them, 
perhaps, no conception at all. Their faith was the aspiring, 
heroic faith of the heart and will, whose object was truly realized 
and embodied in Christ, To such a faith had Christ been 
correlatively revealed, with the earnestness of a Nathaniel its 
exclamation would have been, Eabbi, thou art the son of God, 
thou art the King of Israel. And similarly we may suppose 
that a Socrates, who, according to Plato, earnestly thirsted for a 
divine teacher, could have rejoiced at the revealed advent tt» 
himself of this Messiah. But we do not imagine that such cases 
are to be found solely in those strikingly historic characters. 
NVherever the Gospel is not preached, as well as wherever it is 
preached, there are those wlio are not necessitatedly, but by their 

ISCn.j Egnation of Prdbationcd Advantages. 135 

own free act and state, predisposed or ordained to eternal life, 
and such lelievc. Acts xiv, 48. Of such a class God might 
often say to the discouraged missionary, Be not afraid, for I 
hin\' much peopU in this city. 

2. This spirit of faith, however, like the actual faith of the 
(n-spcl, must be vivified by works; that is,' it must be substan- 
tiatod by the purpose and actuality of righteousness, exemplified 
by an adherence to the laws of conscience. In spirit and pur- 
jK>se this is to fear God and work righteousness; and in every 
nation such as fulfill these conditions are accepted of him. 
Acts X, 35. About this is meant by the phrase, " livi7ig up to 
the light a man has." 

It is often said, however, that we have no reason to suppose 
that tliere are any in heathen countries who live up to the light 
t !»'•>/ have. 

And in strict interpretation, such a statement is true of all 
men in all countries. By that strictness of interpretation, all 
Christendom, as well as all Ileatlifendom, must, without excep- 
tion, perish. The application of the same liberality of inter- 
pretation which would save the visible Church'in Christendom, 
w<.uld save the invisible Church in Heathendom. The true 
jTinciple doubtless is, that the heathen will be saved who 
attains that approximation to the perfect standard of his dispen- 
Mlion, which equals the saving approximation in the Christian 
dispensation. He is a saved heathen who lives as nearly up 
to the light he has, as does the Christian who is finally saved 
«otlie light he has. 

I n\\y, that severity of Christian judgment, with which many 
J'i'Igc the unfavored peoples, would leave us little hope of the 
Christian Church. That judgment is a sliarp two-edged sword. 
it purveys the vices and crimes of heathen nations and commu- 
nities and individuals, judges them by the moral standard of 
Ihc written law, and executes summary justice without rcdemp- 
»'«»n. It forgets the crimes and vices of Christendom, refined 
sn.ifod by civilization from some barbarian grossness, but ren- 
"'•red ingenious and varied by the subtle genius of an inventive 
*''^'^ More especially, it fJrgets how the Christian Church 
J^-^nks not only immensely below the true ideal of a Church, but 
|»"*w often she is the apologist, i\\Q sanctioner, and the perpetra- 
^ ol stupendous sins. What persecutions, what corruptions, 

136 Equation of Prdbational Advantages. [January, 

what idolatries, what oppressions, has not the Christian Church 
not only sanctioned, but committed. And yet that Church is 
the hope, the light, the conscience, and the depository of truth 
for the world. 

For instance, we see in a certain age and section a vast body 
of the Christian Clmrch engaged in the practice and defense of 
slaveholding; we wonder to tind that in other respects they 
exhibit the fruits of the Spirit in rich abundance, and we ask if 
Buch men are to be peremptorily unchristianized here, and utterly 
damned hereafter. Certainly not. It belongs indeed to the 
general Christian Church, as testimony against their great sin, 
to place them under tlie ban of exclusion from Christian fellow- 
ship, and leave them to God's wise judgment. So long as their 
light in other respects is not darkness, so long as their religion 
is in its place immensely better than none at all, we admit 
their true Christianity, burdened indeed by a sin that dwarfs its 
stature and trims it of half its reward in glory. 

Surely he must read the -ecclesiastical and religious history 
of Christendom with a sad heart, if not an infidel discourage- 
ment, who cannot understand how God, under the superincum- 
bent burden and guise of error and wrong, can recognize the 
body of believei-3 in sj)irit, and righteous ones in purpose, who 
form the true invisible Church in the visible world. And the 
same penetrative eye that can recognize the Church in Christen- 
dom, who dimly embrace the historic Messiah in the fullness 
of his ill-understood offices, ought also to recognize the Church 
in Heathendom, who sit indeed in the valley of the shadow of 
death, but whose spirit of faith would embrace that Saviour in 
the completeness of his revelation and advent. And thus it 
truly is, that the missionary who goes forth into heathen lands 
goes, in a great degree, on a tour of discovery. He goes io find 
the men who, tried by tlie test of a presented Saviour, shall be 
found freely willing to exercise the spirit of faith and righteous- 
ness. As the philosopher, applying the magnet to a heap of sand 
and iron filings, finds that the metallic particles will adhere to 
the loadstone, while the sands lie quiet in their own inertness, so 
tlie missionary, rightly presenting the cross, shall find 'it to 
operate as a test to decide whose wills and purposes may render 
and prove them the true metal. He may not preg"ent the test 
rightly. It may not be brought into true correlation with the 

1863.1 ^Equation of Pfobational Advant<iges. 137 

foul of the heathen. Hence he may not find all the genuine 
objects of his search. But if the true correlation b6 brought 
about, it will generally prove true that much people will be 
found unconsciously waiting the desire of all nations. Such a 
ppirit of faith, like the faith of the Christian, may be for a while 
entertained and then renounced. Like the receptive faith of 
Sodom, which would have received the living personal Christ, 
if presented in the plenitude of his miracles and preaching, it 
may be overborne and renounced, and the original possessors 
may plunge, voluntarily and guiltily, into all the excess of las- 
civiousness. Like the Jews, it may rerjoice in some harbinger 
of the Messiah for a season. 

• On the other hand, the presentation of the Gospel may not 
only discover, but awalcen the spirit of faith and energize a 
spirit of righteousness. As we have before remarked, though 
rvcry man who is ultimately condemned has had his day of 
vi.^tation, his chance to exercise the spiiit of faith and of 
rlc^hteousness, and is therefore justly condemned ; yet there are 
higher as well as lower states of advantage, and the higher 
f-lnte may, and doubtless often will, result in increased numbers 
"f believers ultimately saved. Indeed, we are expressly told 
by our Saviour, that revelations might have been made to 
Sodom, in view of which Sodom would have repented. It would 
oven appear that had the apostles, or missionaries equal to them 
in power, have gone to Sodom, Sodom would have been peni- 
tent. The right missionary, then, in the right place, may be 
liic means of an indefinite increase of believers who shall^ be 
':ivod. The Church, thus in the right temper and position, 
niay still affectuate through the blessing of God the conversion 
"f tlie world, and the universal conversion of the world, ter- 
minating all geographical inequalities, result in the salvation 
t'f the entire mass. 

Ihit terrible enough, under any view, is not only the con- 
<litiun, but the guilt and the responsibility of Heathendom. 
n<-atlion<lom is not merely a cause, but an effect ; and to a large 
«l«-groe, in every generation, a willful and unnecessary and con- 
•-"'invntly responsible effect of men's conscious and intentional 
►ins. If individuals sin greatly and almost necessarily because 
tlic a'_'crrc<]rate sins, the a^'irreirate is sinful because the individ- 
oju bina freely, responsibly, and beyond the equitable and 

138 Equation of Prohational Advantages. [January, 

indulgent excuse from bis condition. And that males heathen- 
ism ; and makes heathenism larc^ely responsible and damnable. 
But for this, the true light would shine and heathenism would 
long since have been Christendom. And to this extent the 
heathen are under just sentence of eternal death. 

And this accords with St. Paul's view in the first and second 
chapters of Romans. Those who have not the written law are 
not judged by tlic written law. They have a conscience, a law 
written on the heart, under the dispensation of which they are 
judged, as the Jews are judged under the written law. And 
(chap, i, 17-32) it was <ipon men in heathendom, who obstruct 
(so the word hold should be rendered) the truth hy unright- 
eousness^ that the wrath of God is revealed. For whereas 
they had, from nature and conscience, > a dispensation up to 
whicli they might live and so attain the truth, they turned 
the truth into a lie, and so were given up " to 'vile affectio^isy 
Their responsibility arose from the fixct that they " did not like 
to retain the knowledge of God," and that though knowing that 
they which do such things are worthy of death, not only do 
the same, but have pleasure in them that do them. Xor is it 
true that, beyond the recognition of the fixcts that men out 
from under the written law are still under an ethical law, with 
a conscience to render it conscious, and a perception of a deity 
as its administrator, the apostle does, not in these chapters 
furnish an}' cheering moral points in heathen character or des- 
tiny. For in chapter ii, verse 14, he clearly supposes that there 
are Gentiles that "do by nature the things contained in the 
law ;" and in 15, that '* they show the work of the law written 
in their hearts,*' and he accounts for the fact by averring that 
they are under the law and guidance of conscience. 

It perfectly accords with -our views of a responsible free- 
agency, to suppose that there are localities on earth in wdiich, 
through periods of time, there is so total a moral depravation, 
that tlie spirit of faith is completely repudiated, and tlie entire 
reverse of works of righteousness is done. Besides the large 
immber who, hap}>ily fur themselves, are in the conditions of 
irresponsibility, I'vciy individual of the whole mass in such case 
is freely, responsibly, damnably guilty. But we must not argue 
too Bweepingly from ca^es of such extremity. There may be, 
toOj Bpots in Christendom even, where a degree of morality pre- 

JSC3.1 Equation of Probatioixal Advantages. 139 

vails, where a professed Church exists, and a form of religion is 
euac-tcd, where not a responsible soul is in a state of salvation. 

i\'or, we may add, must we confound te-niporal moral aspects 
with dcrnal prospects. For we may safely conjecture that a 
nc'TO hamlet in Central Africa, however inferior in its tera- 
p<.>riil moral aspects, especially when contemplated in the light 
uf oiir moral and intellectual biases, may, in its prospects for an 
iiirnal destiny, be superior to many an American village. That 
crowd of semi-barbarians, giddy with folly, addicted to vices, 
nii.^guided by degrading superstitions, is composed of intrinsic- 
iilly noble human spirits, towering immeasurably above the 
most human-like animal species around them, endowed with 
cducable reason, with illuminable conscience, and with spir- 
itual susceptibilities, capable of being developed (as the modern 
religious history of Madagascar nobly shows) into a most heroic 
and martyr-like .Cln-istianity. Certainly, in a community like 
tiiis, the Omniscient eye that could discern a predisposition to 
repentance in Sodom itself may recognize an abundance of the 
bpirit of faith, and, tried too by the ethics of its dispensation, 
that community may follow' its own conscience, and " live up to 
tilt- light it has" more truly than many a oSTew England village. 
And nuddng the due allowance, as taught by the words of 
("hrist, for its inferior advantages, its collective prospect for 
eternity may be far superior. For that New England village 
l»:i> placed befure its mental view the pure New Testament 
ideal, and the solemn obligations of Christianity; and yet the 
large majority of numbers, wealth, and influence is impenitent,. 
J'erhaps skeptical. And its Church, how poorly docs it present 
tliat pure reality of Christianity which could win the world by 
it.s loveliness, purity, and power. Nay, how little heart for the 
Work of shaping the world to the model of Christ, and winning 
it a^ a trophy to his cross. 

Strictly of a piece with this want of heart is the want of a pure 
and tlaniingzeal in the prosecution of the missionanj enterprise. 
And we develop this topic all the more fully because it at once 
e-tabllshes our argument, and shows that our favorable view of 
tin* heathen condition is a strong incentive rather than a damper 
t*» the missionary spirit. It is the want of that spirit, iden- 
ti'al v.ith the n)issionary spirit, which ruins the souls of that 
^*c\v England village. That same disposition by which that 

140 Equation of Prohational Advantages. [Jaimary, 

village "would become purely Christian, heir of eternal life, is 
the spirit by which it would seek with all 'its heart and all its 
strength to win a world to Christ. And the specific spirit, too, 
of missionary enterprise, burning with intense power in the 
heart of that Church, would react to kindle the love and zeal 
requisite to gain its own community for heaven. By seeking 
to save others, that village would save itself 

Bold assertions in missionary speeches and sermons, that all 
the world without the pale of Christendom is damned in mass, 
never quicken the pulse of missionary zeal. On the contrary, 
they ever roll a cold reaction upon every feeling heart and 
every rational mind. Our better natures revolt, and, alas ! a gu?h 
of skepticism is but too apt in consequence to rise in the pub- 
lic mind, especially where precise ideas in regard to the ques- 
tion have not been funned and fixed. We had far better argue 
the missionary cause from the danger to our own salvation, 
from that low standard of Christianity which does not subdue 
the world to the righteousness of faith. We had better fix our 
hearts on winning every isle and continent to Christ, to secure 
him the crown of our entire planet.* 

Heathendom has her standing plea in condemnation of 
Christendom. She avers that Christendom, having the blessing 
and glory of religion, does most guiltily not only misimprove 
the boon, but repudiate her obligation to impart it. She 
charges that Christendom, with all her advantages, is still but 
too heathen, forgetting her mission of blessing the families of 
the earth with the gift of the Gospel, while she riots in refined 
licentiousness, exjtcnds her treasures in splendid self-gratifica- 
tions, and employs her powers, trained by the civilizing disci- 
pline of Christianity, in wars of ambition and national aggrand- 
izements, Ileathendom thus maintains that, before heaven and 
earth, her case is fairer, if not in its present superficial moral 
aspects, yet in the light of reason and the judgment of eternity. 
Nor are we sure — and the possibility is a motive for higher zeal 
in diffusing the knowledge of the Gospel of Christ — that thus 
far in the history c>t" the Christian ages, so have we misimproved 
our higher means, that the majority of the redeemed will not 
have been gathered by Christ from lands where the power of 
his cross has never yet been proclaimed. 

A greater power of missionary enterprise would, in full 

1SC3.] Equatloii of Probatlonal Advantages. l-il 

Af/cordance with our views, increase, beyond all known volume, 
the amount of the spirit of faith in the hamlets and territories 
of heathendom. The " mighty works of the Gospel " may be 
f4> presented to the Sodoms and Gomorrahs, to the Tyres and 
Sidons of the heathen dispensation in the present age, as that 
they '* will repent in sackcloth and ashes." And as the demor- 
iilization of one part of mankind sheds a demoralizing influence 
over all the rest of mankind, so the purification of .one part 
reacts in blessing upon all others, 

" Till, like a sea of glory, 
It spreads from pole to pole." 

When every part is purified a nobler spirit of rectitude is uni- 
vci-siilly diflfused, a loftier standard of Christian civilization 
arises, a more perfect model of Christian holiness is attained, 
and tlie Church, embracing the world, gradually rises to the 
rt-ahzation of the ideal of a true, a holy, and a glorious Church. 
.Thus, our favorable ^^ew of the condition of heathenism fur- 
nishes enhanced reasons and motives for the most earnest exer- 
tiuus by the Church for the world's conversion. 

And yet the eternal crown of these giants of holiness, under 
hi;^h advantages may, by the law of equalization, be no brighter 
tiian shall be worn by their predecessors, who attained a lower 
btature, more hardly won, amid the struggles of a depraved age. 
So will the saints of all ages be graded to. a proportionate level. 
Tlie great advantages of that millennial age, worth centuries of 
martyrdom, warfare, and missionary toil, is that, generally 
^jvcaking, all are saved, all through perhaps countless genera- 
u>^\\i of the race; so that it may not be an unreasonable sup- 
h'-'itiou that, ultimately, it is not the few but the many that 
"lall be redeemed. And we are inclined to indorse the opinion 
liiat the finally lost will be, proportionally, as few as are the 
<yiininals executed upon the gallows at the present day in 
comparison with the rest of the community. They will be the 
liuilufactors of the world, perhaps of the universe. 

Our whole view evolves the conclusion that the possession of 
the Gospel is not only a glorious and blessed, but a most Solemn 
»'id responsible boon. The savor of life unto life may be a 
►ivor of death unto death. The Gospel within reach, the Gospel 
'"■'//•(/, the Gospel possessed, all involve an accountability, whose 
wiade o/ guilt God alone can precisely measure. The Gospel 


Foreign Eeligious Intelligence. [January, 

within reach carries a power of warning of its claim to attend- 
ance and attention. The Gospel heard involves a riglit to faith 
and obedience. The (jo&^Q\-possessed proclaims the obligation 
to practice and diffuse its doctrines and power through the 
earth. The greatest sinner in the world, measured not by 
supcrficial aspects, but by compound responsibilities of sin com- 
mitted and advantages enjoyed, may very probably be the 
Gospel hearing sinner, who knows his duty and does it not. 
His woe .is that of Chorazin and Bethsaida, in corhparison with 
which the doom of Sodom was light. 

Our conclusion then is, that if Arminianism ex]^)lains itself 
aright, it leaves to Calvinism alone its inexorable, historical, and 
geographical reprobation, a counterpart to its own theologicSl. 
TVe survey heathendom with melting pity indeed, but without 
that horror and mystery which the dark, damnatory view of 
reprobation affords. We contemplate the whole without any 
Blmddering misgivings of divine injustice. And yet, inthe very 
humaneness of our view, we gather fresh motives, more search- 
ing and home-coming views of responsibility, and more cheer- 
ing incitements to quicken the nerve of missionary enterprise, 
through all the sections of the Christian Church and for all 
the lands of the habitable globe. 

Akt. Yin.— foreign religious INTELLIGENCE. 



The Ratioxalistic Controversy. — 
The essayists ar.i thoir IViond.*, after 
having been censured by all tho arch- 
bisliops and bishcps of Knplnml, and 
nfter havincr seen, at l<'fu«t, part of tlieir 
views coiiderantd as coistrary to tho 
Thirty-nine Articles by the Court of 
Arches, have received the wei:::lity sup- 
port of one of the culoni.ii bi.shops of 
the Church, Colenso. of N'.ua!, in Africa. 
Tlio bishop, \\ho .ilrcndy once before 
had ^riven otTense to lii-s Clmrcli by hia 
vif wd on tlie doctrine of t'.ic New Testa- 
ment respecting polygamy, has written 

a volume* to prove that "the last four 
books of tho Pentatcucli must be pro- 
nounced to be fictitious," whence he ar- 
gues tliat the Book of Genesis must bo 
in the main fictitious also. His work is 
I looked upon, in the Churci* of P^ngland, 
as a more audacious attack on the 
Cliristian foundations than the notorious 
"Essays and Reviews," botli because 
tho attack is more open and direct, and 
because of the more elevated position of 
tho assailant. It will, of course, have 
a very large circulation, not only on ac- 

* The Pentateuch and Book of Joshua, critic- 
ally ex.itnined, by the Itt. Kov. J. W. Cwleii^o. 
1),D., ni-Iiop of Natul. London, 1H02. 
lished ia New York, lS6i 


Foreign Religious Intdligmce. 


count of it5 important bearing upon the 
gK^iK theological controversy, but also 
t,n account of the eminent talent dis- 
fUviMj in its compilation. The admira- 
[.icaiid lucid style of the bishop, the 
caiiJor v/itli which he sets forth all his 
viows, as well as the fine exegetical tact 
w!;!rii lie has shown in the handling of 
inauy dillicult passages, are admitted on 
both Bides. There seems to be some 
doiibt how the Church is to deal with Another colonial prelate, the 
litfhop of Capetown, is reported to have 
come to England in order to institute 
Bfiiust him a prosecution for heresy; 
but no exact intimations have as yet 
U-tn given as to what the Episcopate of 
Kngund will do iu the matter. Many 
iiivc expected that Bishop Colonso 
iTDuld spare all trouble on that head by 
his resignation. Several well-known 
rr.oTnbers of the Liberal schwh as Rev. 
Mr. M'Naught and others, have already 
lijken this course. Another brilliant 
writer of the same school, Rev. Mr. 
. Maurice, was recently reported to have 
the same intention, but to have later 
y.i-l'l'.-d it to the representations of his 
ffiends,.who are resolved to assert the 
claim of the Liberal school to a good 
etanding in the Church, and the same 
r'-jjftseutations will be iindoubiedly 
Lrtju/ht to bear upon Bishop Coleuso if 
Lc should feel inclined to resign. 

In the mean while the counts of 
charge against Dr. Williams and Mr. 
Vilson have been reformed, according 
Ui instruction, and the case agaiusc them 
WIS soon to be brought up again in the 
Court of Arches. Proceedings were also 
lo be instituted against another of the 
wjayista, Professor Jowett. 

PaoGRESs OF Methodism. — Accord- 
bg to ibe latest statistics of the Method- 
i'l denominations of Great Britain, it 
• ppears that all of them have made con- 
»;ili.-nib!e progress during the past year. 
TIk' British Conference of the Wesleyan 
Mt^-tuo<lisl.^ has had an increase of r),476 
b Great Britain, an increase of 4.S00 in 
U.e Foroi-n Missions, and a decrease of 
^10 in Irirland and the Irish Missions; 
tl Fniich Conference an increase of "7 ; 
tJ." Australasian Conference an increase 
<■•<' 2.:jt3; the Cunada Conference an in- 
fT\!\-fi of 2.0fiO, and the Eastern British 
Atncriean Conference a decrease of 108. 
Tii'i'* the whole connection has received 
«J>'ring the year an increase of 13,817 
iM-diUira. The increaso of the other bodies is as follows: New- 
Connection, 1,9G6; Primitive Methodists, 
5,791; the Bible Christians, 1,7S2 : the 
United Free Churches, 4,253 ; the Re- 
form Union, 1,113. The present mem- 
bership is as follows : Wesleyan Meth- 
odists, (inclusive of the French, Aus- 
tralasian, Canada, and Eastern British 
American Conferences,) 519,900; New 
Connection, 32,480; Primitive Method- 
ists, 141,185; Bible Christians, 2i,05ii; 
United Free Churches, 60,880 ; Reform 
Union, 11,355. 

Evangelical Alliance. — Annual 
Conference of the British Organi- 
zation. — The Sixteenth Annual Confer- 
ence of the British branch of the Evan- 
gelical Association was held in London, 
from Oct. 14 to Oct. 16. The annual ad- 
dress was delivered by the Rev. Dr. 
Macfarlane of Clapham, upon the foun- 
dation principles of the Alliance. The 
report referred to the various means 
employed by the Alliance for the pro- 
tection of religious liberty. The state- 
ment of funds was satisfactory, tho 
income of the past year amounting to 
£2,030. Sir Culhng Eardley was ap- 
pointed president of the British branch 
of the Alliance, having hitherto been 
chairman of the Committee of Council 
onlv, a post involving duties to ^vhich 
his'triiling health had rendered him un- 
equal. Several important modifications 
were made in the constitution and duties 
of the Council. It was determined that 
an abstract of the proceedings should bo 
furnished to all the sub-committees as 
soon as possible after each monthly 

Deep interest was expressed in the 
position of the two Spanish prisoners, 
Matamoros and Alhama, who had just 
been condemned, the one to nine, the 
other to eight years' imprisonment, for 
the sole crime of being Protestants. Sir 
Culling F.ardley spoke with strong m- 
diguation of the sentence, but lio hoped 
the Spanish government was not proof 
against the power of concentrated pub- 
lic opinion. He suggested tluit m En- 
gland there should be extensively siguo-i 

declaration, very respectful in its terms, 
to tho Spanish government and the 
queen, appealing to the generosity and 
the justice of tho Spanish nation, and 
referring particularly to what Protestants 
have dune for Catholics in other coun- 
tries. Ho expected that such a declara- 
tion would bo indorsed by the EngUah 


Foreign Religious Intelligence. [January, 

government, by otlier Protestant coua- 
tries of Europe, by America, and even 
by the governments of France and Aus- 
tria ; and if thus all Europe would unite 
in tliis appeal, the Spanish prime min- 
ister, Marshal O'Donnell, who was per- 
sonally in favor of rclip:ious liberty, but 
had to contend against backstairs in- 
fluence in tlie palace, and against all the 
power of the priesthood, might feel 
strengthened and liberate the sufferers. 
On motion, it was unanimously resolved 
CO commit the subject to the Council. 

A discussion of still greater interest 
took place on the war in America. A 
communication from Rev. Mr. Fisch, 
secretary of the Paris branch of the 
Alhance, announced tluit an address of 
the French Christians was to be sent to 
their American brethren, expressive of 
their deepest sympatliy, and uttering 
the conviction that the only cause of 
this awful struggle was the question of 
slavery, and that they could not encour- 
age too much the friends across the 
Atlantic in the steps which are now 
taken to do away wirh that abomin- 
able institution. "We have not," the 
communicauon continues, " a single 
religious paper which is not a warm 
supporter of the cause of liberty, free- 
dom, and Chri.--tian civiii'.Mtion, whieh 
is represented by the Nortli, against 
the slave oligarchy of the .South. No- 
body of us would tliink to put the two 
causes on the same level, to give en- 
couragement to both ; for as the South- 
em Christians consider as a dreadful 
evil the emancipation of the slaves, 
which is our greatest wish, it would bo 
almost a mockery to address tliem in 
this circumstance. An address devoted 
to both would mi,<s ii'< aim Ibr ( party 
and grieve the oilier exceedingly. Si- 
lence would be then much better than 
any such expression, v.iiich would dt> 
harm instead of good.'' Mr. Fisch urged 
the British branch of tiio Alliance to 
adopt -a similar address. Tiio discus- 
sion which ensued upon this request 
revealed the fact, that the members of 
tlie British branch were' fu U.iiig 
as unanimous as the Freneri in favor of 
the United States, aUhougli oil ex- 
pressed a wish to see slavery ubohshed. 
Sir Culling Eardley wished to 8ugt,f.'St 
to the brethren in the South to " com- 
pete with President Lincoln and take 
the wind out of his sails" by making 
provisions for a gradu:il emancipation of 
the sLivea, and by docluring every negro 

free who would join the Southern army. 
The Rev. W. Arthur said it would be a 
delusion to suppose that the slaveholders 
could be induced to undo all that they 
had done. He hoped that the confer- 
ence would give a deep and solemn de- 
liverance on the subject. The Rev. T. 
R. Birks asserted that there were many 
who, on constitutional grounds, sympa- 
thized with the South. He seemed to bo 
oppos(?d to the Alliance undertaking to 
act upon the principle that slavery was 
abstractedly wrong as a Christian prin- 
ciple. Mr. Birks was, however, the 
only speaker who seemed to undertake 
a defense of slavery, and the subsequent 
speakers strongly expressed their dis- 
sent from his views. Ultimately the 
two parties in the meeting agreed upon 
the following resolution, which was unan- 
imously adopted : 

EesrAced^ that this Conference desire 
to express their deep sorrow for the con- 
tinuance of the civil war in America, and 
the fearful amount of bloodshed and 
suffering to which it has led. Believing 
that sin is the cause of God's sore judg- 
ment, and that the evils connected with 
the nuiintcnance of slavery in the South, 
and compIii;ity with those evils in the 
North, £.re one^reat cause of the solemn 
visitation, they renew tlie expression of 
their earnest prayer that peace may be 
restored, that these evils and all others 
which have led to these calamities may 
bo removed, and the immense resources 
and energies of the Americans them- 
selves be set free to promote the cause ol 
the tiospcl of peace and love. They de- 
sire further to record their convictio'ns as 
British Christians, that the duty of our 
country is to read in this v,-ar, not a war- 
rant for self-righteous pride, but a loud 
call to humiliation, prayer, and repent- 
aui;e, lest our own many national sins 
should draw down upon us, in turn, the 
judgment of God. That, considering 
further the distress thus occasioned to 
largo classes in our own country, they 
recom.mend that the second Sunday in 
November be made an occasion for pub- 
lic and private confession of sin, and 
special prayer on these grave subjects, 
60 fur as practicable, in the Churches of 
Christ and Christian families throughout 
the land. 

A letter was read from Ur. Thomson, 
of Edinburgh, on the subject of the ob- 
servance of the Lord's day. It repre- 
sented strongly the evil done by Sunday 
excursion trains, and urged the closing 
of all government offices. The proceed- 
ings were closed by a public meeting, 
held ou the evening of the HtL 


Foreign Religious InteUigenee. 



The Reugious Anniversaries. — The 
Knic-iiK.vT.A.G. — The Gust.wcs Adol- 
l-iirs Society. — The twelfth meeting of 
Ihe German Kirchentag (Church Diet) 
t-kik place on September 23, at Branden- 
ImiTk'. in the Pnissian province of the 
Mine name. Dr. Nitzsch, the well-known 
%'eteran German theologian and professor 
Bt Uerliu, was elected president. After 
hiiving requested the Superintendent- 
(ieiicral, Dr. Hoffman, and Superintend- 
ent Bauer to assist and support him in 
Ihc regulation of the proceedings, be 
culled on Dr. Herrmann, from Got- 
tiniren, for the first discourse, which was 
to turn on the question, •' What are the 
ncce.'sury principles of an ecclesiastical 
constitution that is to unite the consis- 
lorial and synodal systems." The idea 
t!;at a part of the State Church system 
a\n bo saved from the evident tendency 
c;f the age toward absolute freedom in 
Cluirch and State is still popular among 
tiio leading members of the State 
Ciiurclies, and hence their attacluncut to 
» constitution which is to combine the 
consistorial and the synodal elements. 
I'ro.^-ssor Hernnann, of the Law Faculty 
c-f Gottingen, is an earnest champion of 
tlijs tiieory, aud the assembly is said to 
Uvc listened to his address, which lasted 
f'ae hour and a half, with great attention. 
In the second day's session the assembly 
committed a grave blunder by allowing 
»ad encouraging Dr. Krumraacher to 
read the draught of an address to the 
Prussian king, assuring him of the sym- 
pathy of the assembly in his struggle 
'truinsl the representatives of the Prus- 
»:an p.;ople. Such an encouragement of 
ti.e UK. St brutal despotism that has for a 
lyu^ time disgraced the history of Ger- 
many cannot but bo injurious to the in- 
lore?!t of the Kirchentag as well as of the 
Kvan-elical Church, of which it is so 
proininont a representative. An account 
of liic collections made in Germany for the 
•upport of the Syrian Christians stated 
M the result, that the sum of 00,000 
ti'.alcTS Lad been realized, of which 
<C,000 bad been expended. On motion, 
il was resolved, tliat of tho balance of 
14,000 thalers only tho interest is to be 
expended Thi.s interest is to be devoted 
^. fir.=t, the Orphnns' and Widows' In- 
•iUution, founded by pastor Dr. Fiiedner, 
»t lieirut, wliicli bus already long been 
'""t'uRed in a course of bencticent activ- 
>i/. and Ls at present harboring about 

one hundred and twenty-six children 
and a number of widows. Second, to 
the hospital called into existence by tho 
Order of the Johanniter, (Protestant 
Knights of St. John,) at Beirut, in which 
four brethren of the Jiauhe Eaxis are 
busied with great success. 

The Gustavus Adolphus Society held 
its nineteenth general meeting iia Nu- 
remberg, in Bavaria. It was the first 
time that the Society was permitted to 
meet in Bavaria. Nuremberg, although 
now belonging to a Romaii Catholic 
kingdom, is a city full of great Protestant 
reminiscences. Luther called it the eye 
of tlie Reformation ; aud the valiant 
King of Sweden, after whom the Gus- 
tavus Adolphus Society is named, and 
who, during the thirty years' war, de- 
fended Nuremberg by his powerful 
sword, termed it the apple of his eye. 
The cit}', through its burgomaster and 
town councils, gave to the society an af- 
fectionate reception. The receipts for 
the past year were announced as 
amounting to 165,000 thalers, which 
served for the relief of five hundred and 
seventy-eight Churches or commimities. 
This is the highest figure that has ever 
been reached. That of the preceding 
year had been 157,628 thalers, which 
had been divided between five hundred 
and fifty-nine Churches. It was decided 
by the General Assembly that the twen- 
tietli anniversary of the society should 
take place next year at Liibeck, and the 
twenty-first, namely, that of the year 
1SG4., at Vienna, in Austria. This last 
decision was caused by a sudden and 
unexpected circumstance. It had just 
been voted' that tho city of Liibeck 
shoiild, as it had offered to do, entertain 
tlie friends of the Gustavus Adolphus 
Society, when a deputy of Austria an- 
nounced, to the great joy of the entire 
assembly, that he had just received from 
the capital of the Austrian empire a 
telegraphic dispatch to the efiect that the 
Austrian Minister of the Interior, Von 
Schmerling, had authorized tho central 
committee of the society to convene the 
assembly at Vienna. 


Progress of Protestantism.— Meth- 
odist Missions. — Protestantism has 
made again during tho past year con- 
siderable progress. Each of the three 
classes of missionaries who are co-oper- 
ating for the evangelization of the couu- 


Foreign Religioiis Intelligence. [Jannarv, 

try, the "Waldensians, the members of 
the Free Evansrelical Association, and 
the ForeigQ Missionaries, have labored 
with success, and there is now hardly 
any large Italian city without at least 
the nucleus of a Protestant congrega- 

In Milan, the capital of Lombard}-, a 
greater number of people hear the Gos- 
pel preached than in any other town of 
Itiily. Three able evangelists labor suc- 
cessfully in this quarter. Lagomarsino, 
late of Genoa, and Toaldo, late of Bolog- 
na, of the Free Evangelical Church, 
preach alternately, not only on the Sab- 
bath, but on every week day, in two 
large hall.s, containing four hundred and 
fifty and two hundred and fifty people 
respectively. The meetings arc always 
crowded to the door. The congregation 
has about two hundred and fitty mem- 
bers, who are carelully admitted on the 
recommendation of two Chri.-tian breth- 
ren, and after conference with the pas- 
tor. The Waldensians have, likewise, a 
Church at Milan, which is well attended 
by a steady congregation. Their work 
includes Sabbath-schools and d;iv- 
schools, and the superintendence of the 
Klberfeld Society C(;lportage. Of foreign 
mlssionarie= Mr. "Williams, of the Church 
of England, anil .Mr. i'i'j-got, au English 
Wesleyan, are re?:id''nt in .Milan, and aid 
in the work of evatigi.-ii:'.aii(jn. The 
Wesleyans have made preparations for 
the opening of a schoi>l for young ladies. 
The Wesleyan nhs.<ionary writes with 
regard to tliis school : " Wiiilo at Ivrea 
a remarkable providence threw in our 
path an Italian lady of suiKTior culture, 
and considerable e.xpericnc} in education, 
who, having become a convert to evan- 
gelical trutii, was df.-innia of fuiding 
some employment in connection with the 
evangelical movement in her own coun- 
try. The idea of ojiening in some cen- 
tral city a superior scl.mjl for the educa- 
tion of young ladies, where the best 
advantages to be obnined in tiie country 
should be united with a =ou:id and eurn- 
est training, was suggested by ihi'^ provi- 
dence. AVe have now in Milan an ex- 
cellent site, suitable premisi.s, and are 
expecting daily a good English teacher 
from AVestminstcr, to make tho estab- 
lishment complete." 

The Wesleyan mi.ssion.s, in general, 
promise to occupy a front rank among 
the new Protestant congregations. .\t 
Parma the young Wesleyan evangelist, 
Dchuondo, has been exceedingly well re- 

ceived by the people. The old Roman 
-Catholic Church, in which the service is 
conducted, has during the summer con- 
tained two hundred regular hearers. 
Many peasants from the villages around 
flock to the service. The evangelist 
meets with courtesy and respect. The 
school and depot are doing well, and 
the newspapers defend the movement. 

The Wesleyan evangelist at Ivrea has 
been laboring there and in the neighbor- 
hood with the happiest results. At a 
village near Ivrea a whole family have 
been converted to the Protestant faith, 
and at their instance a public service 
has been commenced in their dwelling. 
A large concourse of people came from 
that and tho adjacent villages, and the 
congregation often numbers as many as 
fifty or sLsty persons. At another vil- 
lage, some twelve miles from Ivrea. is a 
regular Sabbath congregation of eighty 
per.sons. At Intra, on Lago Maggiore, 
an evening school and a book shop have 
been opened in connection with the col- 
portage carried on in the neighborhood. 

A lay evangelist of the Waldensians 
is continuing to have great success at 
Brescia. A minister of t!ie same Church 
is carrying on a regular service in Mo- 
dena, and preaches on alternate Sabbaths 
in Paggio and Bologna. He has good 
congregations in these three towns, and 
is strongly supported by the Swiss com- 
munities resident in these parts. 

In Naples a new evangelical periodi- 
cal. La Civiltd Eiangelka, has been es- 
tablished under the editorship of an e.x- 
Jesuit, Perez, who has been for some 
time evangeUzing in the south. The 
Protestant schools have been well or- 
ganized and are very popular in south- 
ern Ital}-. They have recently called 
Ibrth tho praise of men who occupy the 
highest place in the national educational 

There are now four missionaries labor- 
ing among the Italian Jews, two of 
wiiom are supported by Episcopal Jew- 
i.-h societies, one by the London Jewish 
Society, and one by tho Jewish Committee 
of the Free Church of Scotland. They 
are stationed at Turin, Modena, Leghorn, 
and .\ncona. There is said to have 
been such a favorable opening among 
the Jews recently that these missionaries 
have already their hands full of work. 
Tlic missionary of Ancona, Mr. Meyer, 
is at tho same time preaching to the 
German and English Protestants in their 


Foreign LiUrary LiUlligencc. 




The Rffarmers and the Theology of the 
}:■ formation, a work consisting of ar- 
i.. :»•» published in The British and For- 
ei-.m Kvani^elical Review, by its late 
.J.ior. Kev.'Dr. Cunningham, has lately 
l-vn issued by the Clarksof Edinburgh. 
T!i'» articles are eleven in number, em- 
l'r:>cing topics of mucli interest to the 
lii^h Calvinian Orthodoxy of old Scotia.^ 
"nioro are articles on the Leaders of 
liio Reformation, and upon Luther. 
ThtTo is one on Assurance, in which he 
handled Sir William Hamilton roughly 
•:i.l dauiagingly. Other articles are on 
Mvlmctaon and the Theology of tlie 
riuircU of England, John Calvin, Calvin 
Rtid Beza, Calvinism and Arniiuianism, 
Cuvinisra and the Doctrine of Philo- 
».iphical Necessity, Calvinism and its 
I'Mctical Application. Dr. Cunningham 
w.s a frank, bold thinker and speaker. 
H;s writings exhibit great mastery of the 
karuing of the topic discussed. His 
ftyle is full and copious, with sentences 
cf winding volume, somewhat repetitive 
' f llie same thought, and approaching 
0:;; heart of his subject with many a 
( ircuiiilfx;ution and preparatory circuit 
of language and thought. 

The second volume of Dr. Davidson's 
Introduction to the Old Testament has 
»pp<'ared, and is a specimen of the most 
•K-structive criticism. It embraces tho 
lii^torical books from Kings to Esther ; 
l!ie poetical books from Job to Solomon's 
-■'■■'A- It has a dissLTiation of soir.o 
f •.-vt-nty pages upon Hebrew prophecy iu- 
Irtyitietory to tho prophetic books them- 
K-lvcs, wliich are to appear in tho con- 
rl'Jing volume. He finds in the his- 
tjrie^il books plenty of discrepancies, 
1 v'viids, suppression?, and tales, dishon- 
t'Mng to God and unworthy of belief 
He excludes the predictive element from 
propliecy. Particular prophecies held 
**;•■ llongstenberg and Thobuck to have 
^-ya t'liltilled, ho explains as being either 
''i l.iUT date or not truly verified by 
tvi-nt.«i. Still ho allows that tho proph- 
^■'A from their higher sympathies with 
•l.odiviiio government, could more easily 
•nJ truly than others anticipate the near 

Mr. Herbert Spencer, who is a3 great 

a projector in the philosophical world 
as was unhappy Mr. Buckle in the his- 
torical, and in much the same spirit, 
has published his first volume under the 
title •• First Principles." In it he takes 
the skeptical side of the Hamilton and 
Mansel philosophy, afnrmiiig the abso- 
lute unknowableness yet real existence 
of the absolute and yet as a nothingness 
to us. He limits all knowledge to ob- 
jects of which we can draw a mental 
picture, affirming that all else have no 
real existence even in thought that truly 
is thoughtir 

It appears that in the United King- 
doms tliere are at least 4,000 temperance 
societies, and not less than 3,000,000 of 
teetotalers of all ages. The movement 
has forty paid lecturers, throe weekly 
newspapers, six monthly magazines, two 
quarterly reviews, a provident institu- 
tion with an annual income of £114,000, 
and a permanent land and building so- 
ciety with an income of £7 (,000, besides 
other resources. 

A volume of valuable thought is en- 
titled, " An Inquiry into the Theories of 
Hiitory, with special reference to the 
Principles of the Positive Philosophy." 
The writer considers the three great 
theories of history to be those, respect- 
ively, that ascribe the course of events 
to chance, to blind law, and to will. 
His ground is that the true theory is 
that of will, yet that law is the expres- 
sion or permanent manifestation of that 
will. Tliis work is good again?t Atheism 
or Pantheism, but is perhaps liable to ;t 
tendency toward theislic fatalism. In- 
stead of God's governing tlieso emana- 
tive laws, there is danger tlnu tlie laws 
be made to react and govern God. 

The thoughts of the Emperor ilarcus 
Aurelhis Antoninus have been brought 
into English by George Long. It is 
pronounced to be " a valuable transla- 
tion of an immortal book." 

"Relics of Shelley," is edited by 
Richard Garnettand published by Mox- 
on. The National Review says that tho 
book has but one really fine new poem 
of Shelley in it, and that tho shreds of 
poetry should never have been published. 
The book contains some discussions 
which the Review aaya are au error of 


Foreign Literary Iiitellvjincc. 


judgment till the time arrives for a full 
disclosure of Shelley's private life. 

"27k Life of Ijord Bolingbroke, by 
Thomas Macknight," is aonouuced by 
Chapman & HaJl, for November. 

The Clarkes of Edinburgh announce 
"Christianity in the First Century ; or, 
the New Birth of the Social Life of Jfan 
through the Rising of Christianity. 
Translated from the German of Christian 
IIofiFman." "Modern Pantheism, P^ssay 
on Religious Philosophy, by M. Emile 
Saisset With an Introductory Essay, 
Marginal Analysis, and Notes, by Rev. 
William Alexander, M.A., Brazen Nose 
College, Oxford." 2 vols. 

"Primeval Symbols; or, the Analogy of 
Creation and New Creation. By William 
Fetherston, Barrister at Law." The Lit- 
erary Gazette says, " We must allow the 
author to be a most original tiiinker." 
The Ecclesiasiicnl Gazette says, "Worth 
any dozen that reach otir table ; will 
well repay serious study." 

Gaussen, the autlior of Theopneusty, 
has written a work, a tran.^lation of 
which appoar.s under the title, "T/te Canon, 
of the Holy Scriptvi-es, from the double 
point of view of Science and of Faith." 
Both his books were furnished to coun- 
teract tlie ralioncilisLic movement and 
doctrines of Scherer. His historic ar- 
gument is gronndod upon the fact that 
the New Testament was accepted by the 
Church as emanating from the Apostles, 
the organs of Christ's revelation to the 
world. His second great argument, 
which is pronounced by critics to bo 
very valuable, is founded on " the inward 
criterion," the testimonium spiritus 

" MeditiiUons on Death and Eterjiity. 
Translated from the German by Miss 
Frederica Rowan," is published by 
Triibner k Co. Says tlie Bookseller of 
August 30th, 1SG2: "The circumstances 
under which this volume lias been pro- 
duced are very peculiar. A favorite 
volume with his late Royal Highness 
the Prince Consort was the well-known 
German work, ' Stundex leu ^Vnd.vcut,' 
which is generally ascribed to Zschokkc. 
Some of these meditations were fre- 
quently read by him, as though ho had 
a presentiment of his early death. After 
that Bad event the book naturally be- 
came more than ever endeared to the 
queen, who solaced herself by making 
a Bclection of the greater lavoritea ; 

these she employed Miss Rowan to 
translate, and had them printed in a 
volume, of which a small number were 
circulated, with a notice that the ' Medi- 
tations ' iiad ' been selected for transla- 
tion by one to whom, in deep and over- 
whelming sorrow, they had proved a 
source of comfort and editicallon.' As 
the volume is one so eminently calcu- 
lated to answer this end, it was evident 
that a much wider circulation was desir- 
able than at first contemplated, and ac- 
cordingly her majesty was pleased to 
give lier permission to tliat effecL" 


The first complete edition of the ser- 
mons of the Franciscan monk, Berthold, 
of Ratisbon, who, on account of his elo- 
quence, has often been called the German 
Chrysostom, has been recently com- 
menced by Professor Franz Pfeiffer, of 
A'ienna.* Berthold was born about 
1220. Neither his baptismal nor his 
family name, nor the place of his birth, 
is known ; the latter was probably Rat- 
isbon. In the year 1240 he had finished 
his novitiate. For ten years his labors 
were almost wholly confined to Ratisbon 
and the neighborhood. In 1250 he be- 
gan his missionary tour, wliicli embraced 
all Bavaria, the Rhine Provinces, Switzer- 
land, Austria, Moravia, Bohemia, Siberia, 
and Hungary. He died at Ratisbon, 
Dec. 13, 1272. His sermons have found, 
especially in modern times, many ad- 
mirers, both among Roman Catholics 
and Protestants. Like many other 
members of the monastic order to which 
he belonged, he was an opponent of ma- 
ny of the gross abuses prevailing in the 
Roman Catholic Church. The work is 
to consist of two volumes ; the first one, 
which is out, contains thirty-six ser- 

Another posthumous work of the lat^ 
Professor Bleek, of Bonn, has been pub- 
lished, containing the Lectures on the 
Revelation,! which ho had given during 
seven years in succession at the L^ni- 
versity of Bonn. The manuscript of the 
work had already been made use of in 
the commentary of the late De Wctte, 
to whom Blecic had lent it. Still the 
editor was of opinion that there was 
enough new matter in it to justify the 

* PfeifTor, BenhoM von noccn«burg. 1 vol. 
I VleIln^ IsC'i. 8vi.., x.v.xll, pp. 575. 
I + r.lfi'U, Vorlesunpon ubi-r dio Apocalypst. 
Berlin, IBCi. 8vo., pp. 802. 


Foreign Litorary Intelligence. 


rv.Mio.-ttion. He regards in particular 
llx; " General Researches on the Revela- 
l;..n " us a model of clearness and keen- 
rr*<. Tho Lectures are divided into 
foi:r parts. The first states the contents 
ff viu" book ; the second gives the history 
t-f tiic use of the Revelation in the 

• '•lurch : the third contains researches on 
U'lO b.j<jk iu general, namely, on its prin- 
cfwl aim, on its unity, the time of itS' 
o.Hi[Kjsition, on its author, on its style, 
on the visions, on its canonicity ; in the 
fturth part we receive the commentary. 

Tl'.o word "Spirit" (Jlvev^ia) is of so 
{•M:iiiuent importance in the Theology 
f.f the New Testament, that a special 
work on the subject is certainly not su- 
j«jr!iiious. We see that the subject has 
l»ecn recently treated of by an anony- . 
jnoiin nuthor in a treatise entitled, ''The 
li.i'li.'ul Signification of the word Spir- 
;:.' ♦ The author tiiiuks that tlie word 
- r •.'i.rist, Tlvivfia b iJeof, sliows the de- 
^vlipaient of the conception Spirit. It 
ttiu<t, however, be borne in mind, he 
•ars, that the correct translation of the 
*»r>-ik sentence is not " God is a Spirit," 

* .! " tnul is Spirit." From the imity of 
'M Spirit, thus pronounced, he infers 
I'u'v that which is opposed to God, tho 
'■'•il. fannot be "Spirit,"' and can be 
■■x.\:>\ ho only in an improper sense. On 
'•' •■ i-tlicr hand, if God is Spirit, the 
;' I'S'-T in man which we call Spirit can- 
t- ■'• Ik; man's own power, it must be 
•i'f'ivril from God, and Spirit .must be 
■'•' i<r«tnod to signify " the power of 
► ••i derived from God." The author 
* '» «-i:miined all the passages in which 
'■^worU ppirit occurs, and he divides 
»-*;n into four groups. Ho counts to 
'•■ :-''-t those passages in which Spirit 
' -■ :.' -J tlie power of good derived from 
''"i- He fnakes the number of this 
^•*' ' ^> bo two hundred and twenty-nine. 

■ -' '■'••• K';cond class belong those pas- 
•»*•'« in which tho Greek word for spirit 

• .•..-l f,jr that which is opposed to 
'' ■' l\i\s, is explained from the orig- 

^' fiit-aning of the worcl, both in Greek 
» • Hibrow, which means breath, 

* " i und the like. The passages of the 

■ ■ 1 k-TOup, twenty-four in number, are 
' ■ '■ ''\ which tho word " spirit " is not 
' ■. •"*> in tho full eigiiification which is 
y-»"-i.»'i-,od by tho passage "God is 

• "''•■" but in which its signification 
'*^ bo eaiiily traced to Iho original 

' Th, nihilMiheBf^lotitnn? des Worles Geist. 
^«<*<.b, iv-/i svo., pp. 30j. 

i' 'timi J^iiuiES, Vol. XY.— 

meaning of the Greek " Pneuma." In 
the fourth place the author enumerates 
thirty-six pas.sages in which the word 
spirit is not named, but which express 
that there must dwell in man a power 
from God, which is the Spirit or "the 
power of good derived from God." 

The work of Sprenger on the Life and 
Doctrines of ilohamined,* to whicii 
attention has alread}' been called in a 
former number of tlie Quarterly Review, 
has met with a very favorable reception 
on the part of the leading Oriental 
scholars of all countries. The second 
volume begins witli tho emigration of 
Mohammed to Abyssinia and his relapse 
mto paganism in the year 616; the per- 
secution of Mohammed, and tho conver- 
sion of Hamza and Omar ; further per- 
secutions, and the second flight of the 
prophet to Abyssinia ; Christian and 
other influences upon Mohammed during 
the years 616 to 619, the doctrines of 
Mohammed, the theological controversies 
in Mecca ; finally, the tliree last years 
preceding the flight to Medina, and this 
fiiglit itself, the starting-point of Moham- 
medanism as a religious organization. 

Besides the Commentary to the Revela- 
tion from the late Professor Bleek,,whicli 
has been above referred to, we receive 
another one to the same biblical bookf 
from Professor Gustav Volkmar, of Zu- 
rich. This author is one of the most 
prolific writers of the critical school of 
Tubingen, and in the denial of the au- 
thenticity of the books of the New Test- 
ament lie goes further than most of the 
other theologians of his sciiool. He 
places the Book of Revelation upon a 
level with such apocryphal works of thf 
Old Covenant as the Fourth Book of 
Ezra and the Book of Henoch. He 
claims for his book the honor that it is 
the lirst commentary that is compiled 
from the stand-point of " pure criticism.'' 

The work of Professor "Wcisse, of 
Leipzic, on "Philosophical Dogmatics; 
or, Philosophy of Cliristianity,'':^ which 
was commenced seven years ago, hns 
been recently concluded by tho publicn- 
tion of the third volume containing the 
'• Ileilslelire ; or, tho Doctrine of Salva- 
tion.'' As tlio title-page indicates, the 

* ?prenfrer. Das Lchon iinfi die Lehre Mtr 
Imtiinied's. Vol. 2. Berlin, l^'li'. svo., pp. 543, 

t Volkmar, Commcntftr ziir t •ffoiibarung Jo- 
baiiuis. Zuricli. Is6-J, xli, I'p. "'rxi. 

t WeU<ie, I'lillosoplilsclie Doirmatik, voL .8. 
I Leljizic, Utf'2. Bvo., sxiil, pp. 436. 



Foreign Literally Intelligence. 


sophical assertions. Compare the nine- 
teenth century with its predecessor. 
Then the negation of positive Christian- 
ity proceeded trom England, spread in 
Germany, and reigned witli Yoltaire ev- 
erywhere where the lYench language is 
spoken. To-day, in the sf me countries. 
Christian faith has struck deep root; it 
^ retaken hold of the spirit in En- 
^nd, a country, it is true, of secondary 
importance; it controls the energetic 
race which has founded tho greatest re- 
public of modern times ; ii. Germany it 
triumphs over the vastest science, a 
science which equals it ; and in Franco, 
leaving aside the party reactions, which 
are of little account, it appears to all 
just minds only too much revenged by 
the results of the great and generous 
movements of 17 89. People begin to 
understand what it costs to part with it, 
and more than one mind of the first or- 
der returns to it." 

The Protestant Year-hook* now pub- 
lished by the Rev. Th. de Prat, fur- 
nishes the best and com.pletest material 
for the current history of French Prot- 
estantism. Its publication was com- 
menced in 1854, by Mr. Bellamy d'An- 
gouleme, who for several years con- 
tinued it with praiseworthy zeal and 
disinterestedness. He was succeeded 
by the Rev. Th. de Prat, who, in 1S61, 
announced that he would abandon the 
annual publication, and publish it only 
every third year, after the general elec- 
tions. The volume for 1862 is the com- 
pletest yet published. It gives the fol-_ 
lowing totals for the three classes of 
Churches of which French Protestant- 
ism consists: Reformed Ciiurch, 8Sa 
temples or oratories and GT9 pastors; 
Lutheran Church, 390 places .of worship 
and 297 pastors; Independent Churches, 
1-12 places of worship and 94 pastors. 
It has been long the wish and endeavor 
of the editors to give in the Year-book 
the exact statistics of the Protestant 
population, but they have never yet 
succeeded in collecting the necessary 
documents. As to the oflicial census, 
all Protestants agree that it deserved no 
conlidence. Mr. de Prat quotes, in tho 
prefoce, a fact which gives an idea of the 
inaccuracy of the oftici;\ls in taking the 
religious census. In a town in north- 
ern France, a pastor with his wholo 
fairtily and the five Presbyterial coun- 

Ren«n La Cliaire tlliebr^u ftu College <le * Aniiuaire Protestant, Par Tb. do Prat, Psa- 

Franco. Paris, l;6i ' teur, 1S62-64. Paris, 1^C2. 

author attempts a fusion between the I 
metaphysical philosophy of Germany 
uid the doctrines of Christianity. Pro- 
fessor Weisse is an opponent of the 
Pantheistic school and a leading rep- 
resentative of the new philosophical 
school of Germany, whose system has 
been sometimes designated by the ap- 
pellation of Panentheism. 


France has among its leading schol- 
ars a few who openly avow their hos- 
tility to Christianity. Probably the 
•most brilliant among theso writers is 
Ernest Renan, who some time ago was 
appointed by the French government, 
notwithstanding his repeated and con- 
fessed attacks upon the essence and 
the fundamental doctrines of Christianity, 
Professor of Hebrew at the College de 
France. Having repeated, however, his 
attacks on Christianity, he was removed 
from his chair after iiis first lecture. Mr. 
Renan, and his friends of course, repre- 
sented this measure of the government 
as an encroachment upon the religious 
liberty of the professors, and Mr. Renan 
undertook to defend this view in a brill- 
iant pamphlet, entitled, "The Chair of 
Hebrew at the College de France. An 
e.vplaiiation to my colleagues.''* This 
pamphlet is, however, not, as might bo 
inferred from the title, merely a discus- 
sion of the riglit of the government to 
remove a proRssor on account of his 
theological views, but its principal part 
is devoted to a summary exposition of 
his theological views. He wants to 
prove that a religion is possiVile without 
a supernatural element. He concludes 
his attacks upon the supenuitural by 
repeating the trite assertion, that a ma- 
jority of the distinguished men of our age 
have emancipated themselves from a be- 
lief in it. " The supernatural," he says, 
•"has become, as it was, an original sin 
of which men are ashamed. Tlie coun- 
tries and the classes of population which 
believe in it arc of secondary importance. 
Whether the fact be hailed or regretted, 
the supernatural is disappearing from 
this world ; it finds a sincere belief only 
among the classes which are behind 
their age." The Beiue Chretienne ju-tly 
remarks, in reply to theso assertions, 

"Mr. Renan is as hazardous in his nu- 
■merical calculations as ho is in his philo- 


Foreign Literary InteUigence. 


ik'Iors nre put down as Catholics, and 
•Imihir instances have been reported 
firyio other places. 

A new commentary to the so-called 
Jles-ianic Psalms* has been published 
by Ed. Bohl. The author sinjrles out 
U'.t his purpose twelve psalms, without, 
howovvr, maintaining that this selection 
embraces every Messianic psalm. He 
confines liimself to this number in order 
Ui U' fully safe. He divides the Ites- 
»ianic psalms into six grou|ji=. In the 
flryt he embraces Psalms xvi, xxii, xl, 
Ixix, beiug those which refer to the suf- 
fiTiDps of David at the time of the per- 
^•.•cution by Saul. The second group, 
I'Mlins xxi and xxii, concerning the ex- 
aJlaliou of David, beginning with his 
nomination and recognition as king. To 
Iho third group belong all those which 
t'n\^ of the solemn transfer of the Ark 
cT the Covenant to Zion ; but of the 
psalms of ttiis class only Psalm cxviii is 
•elected for commentation. The promise 
of a royal architect, in the seventh chap- 
ter of the Second Book of Samuel, the 
fcutln^r regards as the transition from the 
bavi'lic to the Solomonic psalms, and he 
ilierofore makes this chapter his fourth 
fr'.up. In the fifth group he comprises 
>;.ch psalms — Psalms viii, xlv, Lxxii, ex, 
— a." refer to Solomon, his person and 
Jj'j.-. The last of these psalms (ex) partly over to the sixth group, 
la which we find Psalm xli, and which 
irvats of the last period of David's suf- 
fcriii^'?, brought down upon his gray 
^*^ by Adonijali. 

_ One of the sensation books of the 
J'aris book market is Pellelan's "Xew 
•■ '' .\!ou,"-|- in which he pictures Paris, 
<^»Ura.illy, socially, and morally, as it 
fcvms to his judgment and his eyes. 
•r. IVlletau has no sympathy with, no 
j-A'ration for, the present system of 
» t^i\r>i. Studying the outward and in- 
■-_rd aspects of the New Babylon, Mr. 
»"' '.let-in sees only degeneracy and decay, 
• y!-*«-Tisy and false economy working 
•-■ otnictively hand in hand ; sham and 
•'''huion under every fair e.x.terior; apop- 
"•••itjun dwindling, and a criminal calen- 

• B 'hi Zwolf Mevlanlache Psalmen Erklart 
'^■" J \',l. frvo., slii, pp. 8(iS. 
,^. '•'•'t^n. La KoutelU Bjibyloti. Paris. 

dar swelling; a prodigality which may 
well be called profligate in its tasteless- 
ness, heartlessness, and recklessness ; a 
profligacy which has eaten into the very 
core of society ; letters and art extin- 
guished or turned to pollution; youth 
fading into the premature old age of 
vice ; domesticiiy abandoned ; marriage 
Mling into disrepute; and degraded 
womanhood becoming the pet institu- 
tion of the day. Not since the satires 
of Juvenal has a more stern and sweep- 
ing bill of indictment been drawn up 
against the social life of a great city than 
that in which Mr. Pelletan denounces 
and exposes the Paris of 1862. 

For the decay of morals and intellect, 
which he professes to have proved, Mr. 
Pelletan finds but one great and pre- 
dominant cause, the absence of political 
and inttllectual freedom. Nothing, he 
over and over again declares, can com- 
pensate for the evils which spring from 
the suppression of free thought. No 
new streets, no improvement in police, 
no civic tranquillity, no imperial splendor, 
no forei^ glory, no Me.\ico, no Cochin 
China, can make up for this. Mr. Pel- 
letan scorns '" glory " as he loves free- 
dom, order, and progress. He detests 
and contemns the war spirit and jeal- 
ousies of nations; but there is yet one 
war now. going on in which he finds 
something Hke consolation. He points 
with delight to the American war. 
" The American of the North," he says, 
"the 'Yankee,' the 'clown,' the worship- 
er of the almighty dollar, behold what he 
does when the slaveholding South, as if 
to fasten upon the negro the tyranny of 
climate, tears the bond of union. For a 
simple metaphysical idea — the Union ; 
for another abstract idea, legality ; for a 
dozen of stars, more or less, on a stripe 
of bunting; the American of the North 
offers upon the altar of his country his 
last man and his last dollar. Ho gives 
the example, never known before, of a 
voluntary budget; ho takes the rifle 
himself, ready to die for abstract justice ; 
he learns the art of war, as the I'Vance 
of the Republic did, under the fire of 
the enemy ; he hesitates at first, he loses 
the battle at first, but bo sure he wins 
the day at last. Do you know any 
grander spectacle in history, any fairer 
apotheosis of freedom?" 

152 Synopsis of the Quarterlies, and [January, 

abt. X.— synopsis of the quarterlies, and others of 


American Quarterly Eeviews. 

The Americai^ Theological Review, October, 18G2.— 1. The Council 
of Trent. 2. The Rational Psychology and its Vindications. 3. The 
Religion of the American Indians. 4. The Heretical Gnosis. 5. Place 
of Man in a Natural System of Zoology. 6. The National Crisis. 

BiBLiOTiiECA Sacra a>-d Biblical Repositoky, October, 18G2. — 1. The 
Atonement in its Relations to God and ^Man. 2. The Apostolic Saluta- 
tions and Benedictions. 3. Wedgwood on English Etymology. 4. The 
State and Slavery. 5. English EtjTuology as Adapted to Popular Use : 
its leading Facts and Princij)les. G. Editorial Correspondence. 7. Re- 
cent German Works on Lil.ieral Education, 

The Coxgregational Quauterly, April, 1SC3.— 1. Samuel Worcester. 
2. State-street Congregational Churcli, Brooklyn, N. Y. 3. Christians 
onFurlough. 4. Church Covcaunt of Windsor, Conn., A.D. 1047. o. The 
Evangelical Lutheran Church in the United States of America. G. Con- 
gregational Churches and Ministers in Portage and Summit Counties, O. 
7. Sonnet. 8. Confessions of Faitli. 9. Tlie Bicentenary of Noncon- 
formity. 10. Statistics of the Orthodox Congregational Churches in 
Canada for 1 SGI. 11. Home Evangelization. 

Dajtville Review, ScptemT>er, 1862. — 1. The Secession Conspiracy in 
Kentucky, and its Overthrow: with the Relations of both to the Gen- 
eral Revolt. Part. Third. 2. The Unity of tlie Human Race. 3. Jour- 
nalism. 4. Studies of tlio Bil)k\ No. IL — Israel in Egypt. 5. The 
Holy Spirit and the Church. C.. Israel and Sinai. 7. Irnputation and 
Original Sin. Part IH. 

The Fkkewill Baptist Qcarterly, October, 1862.— 1. A View of the 
Divine Govenmicnt. 2. Tlie Annihihition of the Wicked not a Doctrine 
of the Bililc. 3. Tlie Freewill Baptist Denomination: its Position and 
Prospects. 4. Jolui Leland. o. SullVring as a Discipline. 6. Inven- 
tion of Writing— the Alphabet and Printing. 7. The Sermon: Form; 
Qualifications. 8. The Free Christian Baptists. 9. Lessons from AnI 
cient Cities. 

New ExrfLAXDER, October, 18G2.— 1. The Laws of Political Economy, in 
their IMoral Relations. 2. Alexis de Tocqueville. 3. State Rights. 
4. Vassar Female College. T). The tJo?pel according to Job. 6. Adju- 
tant Steams. 7. Einancii>ation. 8. Edward C. Herrick. 

Presbyterian QrAiiTKULV Rkview, October, 18G2.— -1. Memorabilia of 
Dr. John Owen. 2. Tlie Pulpit a Civilizer. 3. Alexis de Tocqueville. 
4. Alcum— The Teacher of Ciiarleniagne. 5. The Two Rebellions— An 
Analogy of Faith. C. Death cjf l{ev. Benjamin John Wallace. 

English Reviews. 

Christiax RE>rEMRRANrKi{, October, 1802.-— 1. Conference on Missions. 
2. The Ephraem RiMTij.t. :5. 'I'ho Life of Edward Irving. 4. Aids to 
Faith. 5. Female LitV in Prison. G. The Letters and the Life of Fran- 
cis Bacon. 7. Liturgical Quotations in the Isapostolic Fathers. 8. The 
Church Congress at Oxford, July, 1803. 

1863.] Others of the higher Periodicals. 153 

niiiTisn ANT) Foreign Evangelical Review, October, 1862. — 1. Jeremy 
Tuylor. 3. Guizot on the Signs of the Times. 3. Ilengstenberg on the 
Sacrifices of Holy Scripture. 4. Steudel on the Infallible InsjHration 
of the Apostles. 5. Modern Humanitarianism. 6. The Pharisaism and 
Sadduceeism of Modern and Primitive Christianity. 7. Professor Astie 
on the Two Theologies. 8. The Controversy on the Alleged Platonism 
of the Fathers. 9. The Three Generations of Puritanism. 

I3iuTisiiQuAiiTERLT REVIEW, October, 1862.— 1. Muir'sLife of Mohammed. 
2. The Letters of Mendelssohn. 3. Arndt and his Sacred Poetry. 
4. Gibraltar and Spain. 5. French Protestantism. 6. Medieval Preach- 
uig. 7. Illusions and Hallucinations. 8. The Church of England in 
1 803— What Next ? 

EDiNBUKGn Review, October, 1863. — 1. Solar Chemistry. 3. The Hercu- 
ianean Papyri. 3. The Mussulmans in Sicily. 4. The Supernatural. 

6. The English in the Eastern Seas. 6. The Legend of St. Swithin. 

7. Sirs. Oliphant's Life of Edward Irving. 8. The Mausoleum at Ilali- 
camassus. 9, Hops at Home and Abroad. 10. Prince Eugene of Savoy. 
11. The American Revolution. 

The London Quarterly Review, (Wesleyan,) October, 1863. — 1. Corn- 
wall and the Cornish People. 3. Minor 'Elizabethan Poets. 3. Ferns. 

4. Iceland. 5. Jurisprudence. 6. Edward Irving. 7. Bible Classes. 

8. Trollope's North America. 

The London Quarterly Review, ■ October, 1863. — 1. Les :Miserables. 
2. The Platonic Dialogues. 3. Modem Political Memoirs. 4. Belgium. 

5. The Waterloo of Thiers and Victor Hugo. G. Aids to Faith. 
7. China — Th^ Taeping Rebellion. 8. The Confederate Struggle and 

Westminster Review, October, 1862. — 1. Essays and Reviews: Dr.Lush- 
ington's Judgment. 3. The British Sea Fisheries. 3. Railways ; their 
Cost and Profits. 4. Gibraltar, o. Idees Napoleoniennes; the Second 
Empire. 7. The Religious Difficulties of India. 6. The Encyclopedia 
Britannica. 8. The Slave Power. 

TirE National Review, October, 1862. — 1. Dupleix. 3. A Catholic 
View of the Roman Question. 3. Heroditus and his Commentators. 
4. Mr. Clough's Poems. 5. Napoleonism. 6. Thomas Chalmers, A. J. 
Scott, and Edward Irving. 7. The Diary of Varnhagen Von Ense. 
^. Mr. Henry Taylor's New Drama. 9. Science, Nescience, and Faith. 
10. Political Opinion in the Northern States. 

The National Review belongs, as we have before intimated, to the 
Intuitional School of religion. It maintains the principles of 
I'arkerism with a less belligerent and far more genial style and 
t'*nipcr. Its metaphysical articles are often singuhirly subtle and 
i-Uxpicnt ; and where they strike at the negationists, such as Sir 
N\ illiam Ilanulton and Mansel, or Herbert Spencer and M. Comte, 
they freciuently present passages of singular value. 

^^ e make some extracts of this character from the ninth article, 
Mansel and Hamilton's Philosophy of Ignorance: 

Tlio dooiriiio of rt-ligioiis nescience has been rcuderod so familiar by Mr. Maa- 
^•1 as to bolout,' to the common stock of cotemporary tlioucrht, and to make any. 
'>-n expoHition of its grounds unnecessary. It assumes that God, if acknowledged 
*' ail, must be entitled to tlie epithets " Absolute " and " latiuite " on tlie one 

154 Synapsis of the Quarie7'Ues, and [Januaiy, 

hand, and " Cause " on the other. Supposing this to bo admitted, several contra- 
dictions arise between the parts of the admission, and some positions to which 
thought is incompetent altogether. To be ''Absolute," for instance, means, to bo 
out of all relations ; to be " Cause " means, to stand related to an eSect ; and the 
same object cannot be both. Again, "Infinite" Being is unexclusive being, to 
which nothing can be added and no new predicate attached; "Causal" Being is 
transitive and productive, passing to conditions not occupied before, and adding to 
the stock of exi.-tunco, or functions of existence, chargeable upon it. The epithets 
are therefore incompatible. Moreover, the very nature of Thought itself imprisons 
us within the circle of relative tilings : for it carries in it a necessary duality, and 
consists in marking off and distinguishing, — object from subject, body from space, 
attribute from substance, prior from posterior, and individuals, classes, and quali- 
ties inkr se. Apart from a field or term of comparison, amj-thing proposed for 
thought becomes rzo-thing, and only a vacancy remains: nor is the vacancy itself 
appreciable but by standing over against the self that looks into it. If then to 
think is, on the one hand, to note the confines of things, it can never pass beyond 
the finite ; and if it is, on the other, to discriminate their contents and properties, 
it can never pass beyond the relative. The Absolute and Infinite cannot therefore 
present itself to the intellect at all. 

Its refutation in brief: 

"What, after all, then is the amount of this terrible nescience, victoriously estab- 
lished by such a rlouri.-h of double-udged abstractions? Let. not the dazzled 
observer be alarmed: with all their swift dexterities, these metaphysical whifflers 
draw no blood : if they do more than beat the air, they cleave only ghostly foes 
that need no healing and are immortal It all comes to this, that we cannot know 
God out of all relation, apart from his character, apart from his universe, apart 
from ourselves. — vacuum within, vacuum without, and no difference between them, 
but everywhere a sublime equivalence of being and of blank. Privation of this 
k-nowledge we siiiltr, not in our capacity of ignorant creature3,«-but in our capacity 
of intdledual beings; intelligence itself oon.sisting in not having cognition of such 
sort; so tliat, if we had it, we should cease to understand, and pass out of the 
category of thinking natures altogctlier. If any one chooses to imagine that this 
would be a promotion, and to feel himself aggrieved by his exclusion from it, far 
be it from us to disturb so transcendent a grief; but from tlie common human 
level his dream of privilege is indistinguishable from the reality of loss, and his 
ambition of apotlieosis seems tantamount to a longing for death. God other tlian 
"Absolute," God as nlated to nature, to humanity, — as embracing and quickening 
the finite world, as tiie Source of all order, beauty, good, — in every aspect which 
distinguishes the Living from the Existing God, — wo are not by the hypothesis 
debarred from knowing. This is enough ; and every step beyond this would be a 
step out of know]».xlgn into ignorance, a lapse over the brink of reason into unrea- 
son. "We prutcst again^^t tlicsc rcLuivo apprehensions being left to us witli an 
apology, and disparaged as "regulative knowledge," — a kind of pious frauds put 
upon our nature, — falsehoods which it is wholesome for us to believe. Their rela- 
tivity is a ground of trust, and not of distrust; presenting precisely that union of 
the Real and the riieuonienal. Being and Genesis, the One and' the Many, tho 
divorce of which, in the interest of either, has falsified almost every philosophy. 
True, God so regarded, will not, in the rigorous metaphysical sense, be absolutely 
infinite. But we know no rcasun why he should be ; and must leave it to tho 
schoolmen wlio worship such abstractions to go into mourning at the discovery. 

Another view of Manselisin : 

The doctrine of nescience is further defended by appeal to Spinoza's principle, 
that to predicate is to limit, — "Omnis dcterminatio, est negatio." "Whatever you 
afiDrm of any subject introduces a boundary into its nature^ and shuts the door on 
a possibility previously oi^a. Ilow then, it is asked, can the Infinite be the object 
of thougiit? To think is mentally to predicate; to predicate is to limit: so that, 
under the process, tho Infinite becomes finite: and to know it is to destroy it. If 
so, however, tlic Infinite can havo no predicates, — none of the marks, that is, or 
characters of existence, and will be indistinguishable from non-being. To deny'it 

1S03.] Others of the higher PeAodicaU. 155 

to Thought, yet save it to Existence, — as Mr. Spencer proposes, — is thus impossi- 
ble. If it is an incosmizable, it is also a nonentity. Wtat is intrinsically out of 
tliought is necessarily out of being. 

Its refutation : 

Every relative disability may be read two ways. A disqualification in the 
nature of thought for knowing x is, from the other side, a disqualification in the 
nature of a; for being known. To say then that the First Cause is wholly removed 
from our apprehension is not simply a disclaimer of faculty on our part: it is a 
cliar^'c of inability against the First Cause too. The dictum about it is this: ''It 
Ls a Being that may exist out of knowledge, but that is precluded from entering 
witliin the sphere of knowledge." We are told in one breath that this Being 
must be in every sense '• perfect, complete, total — including in itself all power, and 
traui-cending all law." (p. 3S ;) and in another, that this perfect and omnipotent 
One is totally incapable of revealing any one of an infinite store of attributes. 
Need we point out the contradictions which this position involves ? If you abide 
by it, you deny the Absolute and Infinite in the very act of affirming it: for, in 
debarring the First Cause from self-revelation, you ijnpose a limit on its nature. 
And in the very act of declaring the First Cause incognizable, you do not permit 
it to remain unknown. For that only is unknown of which you can neither affirm 
nor deny any predicate: here you deny the power of self-disclosure to the "Abso- 
lute," of which therefore something is known, namely, that nothing can be known 1 

Again : 

Who is this Uncreated that can come forth into the field of existence and fill it 
all, and yet by no crevice can find entrance into the field of thought ? that can fling 
tlic universal order and beauty into light and sj)ace, yet not tell his idea to a single 
Viul? — that can bid the univer.-e into being, yet not say, "Lo! it is I?" So little 
credible do we find this combination, that, when we 'hear men insisting on the 
dumbness of the Everlasting Cause, we cannot imagine but that tlie religious inter- 
pretation of the world has already ceased to be open to them ; and that, however 
tl.ey may assume, with ilr. Spencer, a neutral attitude toward the spiritual and 
the material conceptions of the Ultimate Reality, the controversy has in effect, 
though perhaps unconsciously, died out for them by prejudgment. 

Striking demonstration that Infinity is not a mere negation of 
finity, and is as truly known : 

Ihe finite body cut out before our visual perception, or embraced by the hands, 
lies as an island in the emptiness around, and without comparative reference to 
lliLs cannot be represented: the same experience which gives us the definite object 
Pives us also the infinite space; and both terms. — the limited appearance and the 
unhniited ground, — are apprthended with equal certitude and elt-aruess, and fur- 
^;^•^■■hod with names equally susceptible of distinct use in predicatfon and reasoning. 
iuo transient successions, — for instance, the strokes of a clock. — which we count, 
present themselves to us as dotted upon the line of permanent duration ; of which, 
witnout tiiem, we should have had no apprehension; butwhicli, a.^ their condition, 
u unreservedly known. Time with its one dimension. Space with its three, wo 
»r« coaipelled to regard as infinite; not in the mere subjective sense, that our 
thought of them sufl'ers no arrest ; but in the objective, that they in thom- 
«;!vc-3 can have no beginning or end. In tliese two instances of relation, between 
ft plienomenon given in perception, and an entitv as its logical condition, the cor- 
Matives are on a i»orfect parity of intellectual validity. You may disparage the 
underlying ground as "ne;:r.itive," and negative it is so long as your attention. 
only uses it to pitch on the phenomenon it carries; but this order is reversible at 
*^u; and the moment you change the focus of your thought and bring the contain- 
"'iMield into your view, your representation of space is not less positive than that 
of body. Plus and are tliem-elvcs relatives, and change places according 
" 'he starting-point and direction of your measurement. " Tiie darkness," saya 
■Malebrancho somewhere, ''strikes upon our perceptions as well as the light: 'it 
^^•'jeeH, no doubt, the glare of colors, but produces in its turn effects of its own.'* 

15^ Synopsis of the Quart&dies, and [January, 

You may decry the ideas of the "infinite " and the "eternal" as not "clear-" and 
clear they are not, if iwtMng hut the mental jnctiire of an outline can deserve that word. 
But if a thought is clear, w.lien it sits apart without danger being confounded with 
anotlier, when it can exactly keep its own spcocii and reasoning-, without forfeiture 
and without encroachment,— if in short, logical clearness consists, not in the idea 
of a limit, but in tlio limit of the idea,— tfien no sharpest image of any finite 
quantity,— say. of a circle or an hour,— is clearer than the thought of the infinite 
and the eternal. Or, finally, will you perliaps admit these to their proper honors 
as mere thoughts —po:,[mQ thoughts, ckar thoughts,— but deny to them the char- 
acter of ? This course is open to you on one condition : tliat you restrict 
tlie word -knowledge'" to the discrimination of phenomenon from one another 
and refuse it to the discrimination of them from their ground ; and say, for instauee 
'•I know the moon to be dilVerent from the sun ; but I do not know it to be difier- 
ent from the space in which it lloats:" or, '• I know Cesar's life and date to be other 
than Seneca's; but I do not know either from tlie eternity in which it appear^" 
Can anything, however, be more arbitrary tlian such a definition? more repugnant 
to common sense and common language? nay, more self-destructive? for onlv as 
differenced from their common ground can things ever be known as diflerenced 
from one another: erase the primary differentiation, and all others are forever kept 
out of existence. "We have no guarantee for any except in the assumed veracitv 
of our perceptive or logical faculties ; and that guarantee we have alike for all Vr'e 
conclude then, on reviewing these examjiles of Space and Time, that ont<Aoqiral 
Ideas, introdiirAnj us to ctrtainfued entities, hdong no less to our knowledge than scien- 
tific ideas of phenomenal dtsj.ontwn and siiccession.. The two types of cognition are 
different m this: that the one gives to our apprehension ^/ie w^cAanyeaWe co?!.sran- 
a£s of the vnuerse^—v.-hnt ever is, not wliat will appear,— and so supplies no after- 
sight, no foresight, but sm.ply insight: while the other gives us the order and the 
lines of change, and so enabirs us to reproduce the past in tliought and anticipate 
the future. Both kinds of discernment have the same warrant, both are alike indis- 
pensable to the harmony of Reason, with itself and witli the world; neither can 
affect independence of the other; and the attempt to glorify exclu'^ively the char-^c- 
teristics of either is a mere prufessional limitation of mind, whether in the priest 'of 
Nature or the priest of God. 

The arguTuent carried to a theistic result : 

"tt-hat we have said with rccrard to Space and Time applies equally to the case of 
Causation Here, too, tlio Finite ofTfrfd to perception introduces to an Infinite 
supplied by thought. As a definite body reveals also the Space around, and an 
interrupted succession exhibits the unifurtn Time beneath, so does the pas*in<' 
phenomenon demand for itself a Puwer behind: tlie Space and Time and Powt^ 
not being part of the thing jH-rceivcd, but its condition ; guaranteed to u« there- 
fore, on t"ne_ warrant, not of Sen ^e. but of Intellect. Thev are all on the sanie foot- 
ing: we think thctii all \,y the same nec^'ssity: wo know them all with the same 
certainty, ilr. Six-ncer freely allows that we are obliged to regard every phenom- 
enon as the maniffslation of some Power: that "we are obliced to re^'ard that 
•Power as Omnipr.-,:ut."' (p. 00;) that -we are no more able t^o form a circum- 
scribed idea ot (.ause than of Spjux- or Time, and we are consequently obli'-ed to 
thmk of the Cause whu-h transcvnds our thought as positive though indefinite " 
(p. 93;) that we have a right to trust this demand for originating power; and that 
on this reposes our ind.";tructil.le behcf in an ultimate Omnipotent Reality Here 
already are several prf.hcut.-s a.v^igned which hardly consist with the proclamation 
that the Primary hxi.-t, ri.v is wholly unknown; that Being, it seems we may sav 
IS One, Eternal, I biqr.Uou.s. ( manifested as Cause in all phenomena. 
Is there not more exphctne-^s lu-re than could bo expected from an entity abso- 
lutely latent? But tins i.s nut all. Our author further identifies the First Cau>e 
with what appears in h<-.onco m.dor the nan.o of '-Force,' and is tracked throu.^h 
the metamorphoses of phystc-d, chemical, vital, and other phenomena Thfi dv- 
namic principles that wc curry into our interpretation of nature, that Force is peV- 
sistent through all eiixnditure.-*. ai.<l one under every disguise, are in truth but 
transformed expressiun.s ot the axiom of ultimate Causation. The primary and 
eecoudary agencies bc'ing thus merged into one, and conjointly made objecta of d 

1S03.3 Others of the higher Periodicals. 157 

priori opprohension, the next question naturally i?, what in the last resort means 
tliis word '• Cause?" Pursued backward to its native seat, as a form of the intel- 
ifct itsJi: what type does the thought present? Mr. Spencer truly says, "The 
forcc' by wliicli we ourselves produce chanyos, and which serves to symbolize the 
cauw of changes in general, is the tinai disclosure of analysis," (p. 235 ;) he admits 
tl^il we cannot match our own voluntary eflbrt against an external force, and 
nvard tliem as susceptible of a common measure, without a.^suming tliem to be 
likf in kind, (pp. 58, 254:) and as "no force save that of which we are conscious 
«{-.jr:ng our own tOort.s is in.mediately known to us," while "all other 
tint- is mediately known," it is clearly the inner volition that serves as prototype 
if all exterior power, and defines what the intellect intends by the word Cause. 
Now combine these several propositions. One power we iriimediately know. 
T?:at power is "\.Vill. Others, if assumed by us, must bo assimilaied to this. But 
U-hiiid every phenomenon we must assume a power. And all such powers are 
rimIos of one and the .=ame. And that one is identical with the First Cause and 
I'liimate Reality of Being. The inference is irresistible, that by a fundamental 
inHv.ssity of thoug^it we are constrained to own an ever-living Will, a Personal 
S'^-i\\ as Author and Administrator of the universe. 

Sflf-existeuce of Deity doe.s not involve the self-existence of phe- 

Far from admitring this indiscriminating doctrine, that self-existence may go 
t-\\l:v everywhere or nowliere, we submit the distinction that while, by the laws 
• •f lliought, phenomena demand causation, entitles dispense wiQi it: and it is, we pre- 
winio, in obedience to this law that our author himself plants his "Absolute 
Rt-ality " behind the scenery and changes of the world. It is not existence, but 
t-nlraiico upon existence and exit thence, that must be referred to an originating 
I'-f-wor. And iuasmucli as the universe resolves itself into £> jx^rpetual genesis, a 
vat-taggregate and history of phenomena, tlio Tiieist is perfectly justitied in treat- 
•^ii-i. it as disqualified for self-existence, and iu passing beliiud ft for the Supremo 
Kiitity that needs no Cause. This distinction is no invention of mere theology; 
it :.■; a-oviguiziid in other tiekis. Xo one asks a cause for the i<iiare of the universe; 
arid it dei>ends on the theory we may form of its Matt.a- whether that too is excepted 
•rnm the category of originated things. But everywhere the line is drawn upon 
tJic same principle ; that entities may have self-existence, phenomena must have 
their Cause. 

Two valuable maxims : 

Thuri.jh Sense may vary, Beason must be uniform in all beings; as Mind must be 
'■•^^; w must Bi-jhteoi/sness be one, ivhefher in heaven or upon earth. 1\vi first declares 
rn-cisoly what the most calm and cautious of modern savans. Oersted, wrote a 
lr<-af;se to establish,— the Unity of Reason throughout the universe: the ubiquity 
". ^p.i.v nnd time securing the relations of measure and nunibei' evervwhere; and 
ai» oilier knowledge being entangled with this constant element. The second de- 
^t''[*:^ "'^ corresponding iloral principle,— the Unity of Goodness,— the persistency 
''1 Kiglit,— the identity of Real Excellence, from sphere to sphere of character. Is 
\ "'"'^■'ty-" is it/* irreverent," to apply these principles to the Highest of Spiritual 
- atures? Then it is " audacious " and "irreverent" to own him as Mind, or 
i'ak of any Divine Righteousness at all; for to do so is to assume a constant 
'•**.'noe emliodied in these worcte. 

1 "u^'' "^ '^-^^^RKD LiTCRATTTUE AKD BlBLiCAL RECORD, October, 18G2.— 
1. Proj)li(cy: its Nature, Inteqjretation, and Uses. 2. Ernest Kenan. 
•!. Dean Kllicott on the Destiny of the Creature. 4. The Atonement in 
Kflation to Hebrews ix, 10-18. 5. The Tree of Life. G. The Syriac 
'-ariLiua^^c an.l Literature. 7. Life and Miracles of Apollonius of Tyana. 
y- 1 he Biblical Cauon. 9. 3Iarcu.s Antoninus a Persecutor. 10. The 
^ ^uf^rtun-cction; an Easter Sermon. 

^ ''1^ number contaiii.s a letter from Professor Challis, the author 
«^fau uigeniou^s work explaining the first chapter of Genesis on the 

158 Synopsis of the Quarterlies mid [January, 

hypothesis that it is simply a picture of the creation as previously 
outlined in the divme miud. Mr. Challis acknowledges the truth 
of Mr. Korison's analysis in the Replies to Essays and Reviews 
(noticed in our last number) of the six creative days as conclusive, 
and adjusts his own theory to it. Mr. Rorison's analysis, slightly 
modified,.might be thus exhibited. 

The six days may be set in double threes : 

1. Light. 1. Lights. 

2. Watery Expanse, 2. Water animals and birds. 

3. Vegetative earth. 3. Land animals — Man. 

It -will be seen that each digit of the first column corresponds 
with the same digit hi the second column. Each digit in the first 
row denotes a created residence; and the same digit in the second 
row denotes its created occupant. Zight is created at figure 1 
in the first three, and the luminaries as its tenants at figure 1 of 
the secoud three. Second in both are the icaters and the ejcpa7isc 
tenanted with tcatcr anitnals and birds. Thu-d hi both the pre- 
pared earth witli its higliest order of tenantry. 

In both rows there is a parallel descent, the three grades of which 
are, the empyrean, the medial, and the terrene ; the ethereal, the 
fluid, and the solid ; the skies, the atmosphere, the earth. The 
narrative goes upon tlie plan that the whole system was constructed 
the first three days, and stocked with occupants the ST}cond three 
days. A similar instance of double threes will be found in the 
Lord's Praver, as presented in Vriiedon's Commentary, page 93. 
In the first tliree of the prayer also will, we thmk, be found nearly 
the same descent — celestial, mediiil, terrestrial. It will be seen 
that, accordhig to tliis analysis, the plan of the creative days is not 
naturalistic but artitieial. 'i'liis, if so, would seem to close the issue 
between the "cosmogony of ^Vloses"' and the geology of science. 

German licvieics. 

DoRPATER ZEiTscuniFT YV.v. TiiKoi,or;iE UND KiucHE. (Dorpat Joumi^l 

for Theolotry and Cluirch. Kilitnl hy the Professors of the TheologicMl 

Faculty of DoiiKit, Kii>m:i. Number Tluoe. 18C2.)— 1. Octtmgcu, Kegcn- 

eration throuu'h Infant liu[iti.-^ni. 2. llahn, Pastoral Duties in German 

Cities 3. OcttinL'in, Thi' l)eilir;itiou of a Lutheran Church and the 

Confessional >lov. intiil iii the 'r\n4. 4. The General Synod of the 

Lutheran Church of liuvaria. 

Professor Oettingen, in tlie first article, pleads for the old Lutheran 

doctrine of Bajitisinal Regeneration, lie develops at length his 

own views of tlic nature of this regeneration, and promises to show, 


1S63.] Others of the M<jher Penodicals. 159 

another article, that it is a sound biblical doctrine, and iu 
..•cordance with the symbolical books of the Lutheran Church, 
i'lio author admits his belief in the "possibility and necessity of 
infant faith," and will give proofs for it in the second article. Like 
the entire' old Lutheran Church of the European continent, he is 
vorv severe against the Baptists, and he demands that "every 
t|.iritual communication with them be broken ofl', and every appear- 
ance of fraternal concession disappear." He wants them to be 
branded " as impious," and as " enemies of the kingdom of God." 
(Pp. 326, 327.) Every denial of full baptismal regeneration is con- 
hidcred by him as a concession to the Baptists. The whole article 
bn-athes the spirit of unmitigated fanaticism. 

TiiF.OLOGisCHE QcAETALSCHKrFT. (Theological Quarterly. Edited by the 
Professors of (Eom. Cath.) Theology at the University of Tubingen. 
Number Three. 1802.)— 1. Hefele, Recouciliation of Emperor Frederic 
Barbarossa and Pope Alexander III. at Venice in 1177. 3. Welte, The 
Apology of Melito of Sardcs. 3. Langen, The Jewish Synedrium and the 
K(.uian Procuratorsliip in Judea. 4. Nolte, Extracts from the (unprintcd) 
Chronicles of Georgius Hamartolus. 
The first article, by one of the ablest Church historians of the 
linman Catholic Church, rectifies a common statement in the his- 
tory of Pope Alexander IIL and Emperor Frederic Barbarossa. 
The second gives a translation of an Apology for Christianity, which 
Melito of Sardes, a celebrated bishop and apologist of the second 
Ciiristian century, addressed to the Emperor Antoninus. This 
apology is referred to by some of the Church historians of the ancient 
Church, as Eusebius ; but, like so many other writings of the old 
f.ithers, it was lost in the course of time. Only about thirty years 
ago an Englishman, Henry Tattam, discovered it again with a 
number of other Syriac manuscripts in a convent of the Nitrian 
desert of Egypt, and it became the property of the British Museum 
iu Loudon. The Syriac text, together with an English translation 
and notes, was published at London in 1855, by Cureton. An 
account of it was also given in the Journal Asiatique of Paris, by 
Ernest Renan, who likewise published the Syriac text with the 
Latin translation in the Spicilegium Solesmense, a collection of 
"tif.lited works and fragments of ancient ecclesiastical writers, 
published by the Congregation of French Benedictines at Solesmes. 
The A]>ology contains some new views and statements on the 
origin of l^olytlieism and Idolatry in several regions. The author- 
'>hip of Bishop ^[elito of Sardes (the manuscript calls the author 
< idy Melito the Philosopher) has been contested by Bunsen, but 
defended by Cureton. 

160 Si/napsis of the Quarterlies and [January, 

TfTEOLOGiscnE Stitdien T7]s-d Kritiken . (Theological Essays and RcTiews. 
Edited by Dr. Ullmann and Dr. Rothe. First Number. 1863.) — 
Essays. 1. Plitt, On the Importance of the Heidelberg Catechism for 
the Reformed Church. 2. Eggel, On Shelling s Philosophy of Revelation. 
Thoughts and Re ma rks: 1. Masse, A ]\Iiner's Notes to Job xxviii. 2. Baum- 
lein, Papias's Account of the Gospel of 3Iark. 3. Paret, Another Remark 
on James iv, o, and Gen. iv, 7. Jiivieirs : 1. Kling, Philosophy am] 
Theology, with purticular reference to the works of Sengler (Erkennt- 
nisslehre) and L. Schmidt (Einlcitung in die Philosophic ;) 2. Gess, Geht t 
im Namen Jtsu^ (Prayer in the Name of Jesus,) Reviewed by Pieggen- 
bach. Charadtristic : Ullmann, Biographical Notice of Dr. Kling. 

"We have had to remark witli regard to several preceding numbers 
of the Studien that the selection of topics was not a very fortunate 
one, and that the veteran theological review of Protestant Germany 
was in danger of being outllanked in point of interest by some of 
her yoimgcr sisters. The ])resent number, however, is again full 
of interesting matter. Wo receive, in particular, two very valuable 
articles by Eggel and Kling on the efforts recently made in Ger- 
many to bring about a full harmony between philosophy and Chris- 
tian theology. The author of the latter article, Professor Kling, 
of the University of Bonn and iNIarburg, one of the most distin- 
tinguishcd divines and scholars of Protestant Germany, died last 
year, March S, 1802, and the senior editor of the Studien, Dr. 
UUmann, devotes to his memory some affectionate remarks. The 
article on the Heidelberg Catechism, by Professor Plitt, of Bonn, 
is very scasona1>le at a time when the Kefonned Churches in both 
hemispheres are on the point of celebrating the tercentenary of the 
introduction of this catechism. 

ZErrscHRFFT FLU WisPENscHAFTLirin-; Theologie. (Journal for Scion; 
tific Tlieology. Editeil by Profussor Ililgenfeld of Jena. Number Four. 
1862.)—!. Furror, Rudolf Collin, A Omtribution to the History of the 
Swiss Rofnmi.uion. 2. Hilg. nf<-ld. Gn<)^.ti^i^;m and the Philosophumcna. 
with special n Icrcnce to the rveeiu works of W. ^Moller and R. A. LipaiCs. 

The latter article, by Professor Ililgenfeld, is a thorough review of 
the new controversy on the (inostic systems which has arisen out of 
the publication of the celebrated P/iitoso2)humena, a work ascribed 
to Bishop IIip[>olytu9, The account which this work gives of 
Gnosticism differs very materially from the sources of information 
which have hitherto been known to us, and the question has there- 
fore naturally come up, Which of the two accounts, the old or the 
new one, is entitled to tlie greatest credit? The information con- 
tained in the PJiUoaophuiniwi has been very elaborately set forth 
in the learned work of W. Muller, {Tfle GcscJiichte der KosmologUi 
der Griechischai Kln-hc bis auf Oriyines. Ilalle. I860,) a young 
theological lecturer (Privatdocent) at the University of HaUe. Less 

1S03.) Others of the higher Periodicals. 161 

rrli.mce ou the statements of the Philosophumcna is placed by Dr. 
UJ>^^^LS Professor of Protestant Theology at Vienna, in his work 
OH "Gnosticism, its Essence, Origin, and Development," {Gnostic- 
ismus, etc, Lcipzic, ISCO,) one*of the most thorough recent works 
on ilie subject. Professor Hilgenfeld subjects the views of both 
these scholars to a thorough examination, and develops at large 
Lis «i\vn opinion about the character and the histoiy of Gnosticism. 

ZtrrscirRiFT fuer Historische Theologie. (Journal of Historical Thc- 
* , 1...7. Edited by Dr. Ch. W. Xicdner. First Number. 1863.)— DaMd 

JorTs of Delft: His Lile, Ms Doctrine, and his Sect. By F. Niffold. First 

Tlif entire space of this number of the Quarterly is taken up by this 
R-ntrle article on David Joris of Delft, one of the numerous secta- 
mns of the Netherlands in the sixteenth century, whose lives and 
writings the author has made his special study. The present 
M-iide is only a first installment, as it is called the first part of the 
fin^t section. It begins with a quotation from ]Mosheim, to the effect 
that the opinions still widely differ on the character of Joris, some 
placing him on the list of the worst fanatics and blasphemers, and 
olIicTS calling him a saintly mystic, and that, therefore, his cause 
-till awaits the sentence of an impartial judge, who will decide on 
tlic ground of authentic and reliable documents. A literary intro- 
duction of twenty-two pages shows that the author has collected 
Sor liis work more materiaUhau ever has been made use of by any 
ui" his predecessors. As Joris took for some time an active part in 
ihe Anabaptist movement in Holland, tliis thorough and exhaustive 
Work on his life bids fair to be a contribution of the greatest import- 
Knte to the entire Church history of that period. 

French Reviews. 

V.Yszv. DEs Deux Mon'des.— August 1.— 2. Guizot, Un Pfojet de Mariage 
lUnraL 2. Salnt-Rene Taillandier, Le Roi George de Podiebrad, (1st 
•rticle.) 7. Ch. de ^Iazade, La Guerre du Mexique. 

Au'jM^t 15. — 2. Reville, Le ^Mj-thc de Prometliee et Ics Etudes Modemes 
•'ur rilumamte Primitive. 4. SArKT-llENE Taielakdier, Le Roi George 
Je Podiebrad, (2d article.) 5. Saisset, Recherches Nouvelles sur r^Viiie 
ct 8ur la Vie. 

fiq-UiiJ^r 1. — 1. :Maxime du Camp, Naples et la Societe Napolitaine sous 

1.- l{oi Victor Emmanuel. 3. Remcsat, Rome et son Nouvel Historien 

f Anij>^re.) 4. Saint-Rene Taii.landier, Le Roi George de Podiebrad, 

(concluded) 6. CocnuT, Les Finances et les Bauques des' Etats-Unis 

, «l. puis la Guerre. 

f^rpUrnf^er 15.-2. Saent-^Iarc GmARDiN, La Question d'Orient en 1840 et 
fn lf<62. 3. Galos, La Marine Marcliandc en France d'apres I'Enquete 
df lhG-2. 4. Taine, La Poesie 3Ioderne en Angleterre. G. D'IIausson- 
TiLUi, M, de Cavour et la Crisc Italieunc. 7. L. de Caune, La Revolu- 
tious ft la Republique de 1848 a Propos d Tnistoire de "Sir. Garnier-Pa^es. 

1G2 Synapsis of tJLe Quarterlies^ etc. [January, 

Odoler 1. — 1. GtnzoT, Un Projet de Jtlariage Royal, (3d article.) 3. Du 
Hailly, New York pendant la Guerre. 4. L. de Carne, La Revolution 
et la Kepublique de 1848, (2d article.) 5. Esquiros, L'Ajigleterre et 
la Vic Anglaise, (ITlh article.) 10. Lavollee, Madagascar et le Roi 
Radama II, 

October 15. — 2. Trognon, Guerre d'Amerique — Campagne de I'Armee du 
Potomac. 4. Taine, La Poesie Modcrne, (2d article: Lord Byron.) 
5. SaintOIarc GiuARors-, La Question d'Oricnt et 1840 et en 1862. 

Kiyrcmber\. — 1. MicnEL Cuevalier, L'lndustrieModeme. 3. Saint-Re>-e 
TPaillandier, Publicistes Modernes de TAUemagne. 4. Geffroy, les 
Etudes et Ics Decouvcrtes Arcbeoliques Reventes dans le Nord Scandi- 
nave. 5. Du Hailly. New York et la Vie Americaine. 

Nmeml&r 15. — 2. Palltj, La Compagne de Cocliinchine en 1861. 5. Leo^'CE 
DE Lavergne, De I'Aconxl de TEconomie Politique et de la Religion 
a Propos d'un Livre Catholique. 6. Cn. de Remusat, Shaftesbury. 9. 
Reclcs, Les Livres sur la Crise Americaine. 

The article on the Amcrioan "War, contained in the number of 
October 10, and signed by Mr, Trognon, the Secretary of the Prince 
of Joinville, has produced quite a sensation both here and in 
Europe. The authorship has been commonly ascribed to the 
Prince of Joinville, or another Orleanist prince, and a translation 
of the article has been publislied in New York in pamphlet form. 
The political press has so generally given extracts from and com- 
ments upon it, that we suppose most of our readers are familiar 
with its views. 

One of the most valuable articles in the last numbers of the 
Revue des JJeux Jlondcs is the essay of Leonce de Lavergne on 
the Harmony between Political Economy and Religion. The 
author shows that as modern civilization, so also the science of 
political economy is an offspring of the Christian religion. The 
political economist cannot solve his task without assigning to the 
immense influence of religion on social life its due part; and Chris- 
tians, on the other side, ought to appreciate the importance of 
political economy, which will teach them the art 'of making a more 
and-more numerous portion of the human family participant of the 
great blessings which Christianity has brought down upon earth. 
The author is happy to find that the importance of the subject begins 
to be duly appreciated in the 1 voman Catholic Church, whose writers 
have too often denounced political science, like so many other 
sciences, as an aberration from the true principles of Cliristians. 
He cites the eminent orator and philosopher. Father Gratry, who 
says in one of his works: "I have been assured that political 
economy is a scourge ; but I say, it is the salvation of society.'" 
He mentions with gratification the fact that the bishops of Belgium 
have established at the University of Louvain, which is entirely 
under their control, a chair of Political Economy, and he devotes 

I.SG3.J Quarterly Booh -Table. • 163 

iho jrrcatcr part of his article to a review of a work by Professor 
IVrriii, the occupant of this chair, on "The Wealth of Christian 
Nations." While he criticises and rejects the views Avhich the 
K<»man Catholic writer, in common with his Church, expresses in 
the defense of begging, against the universality of primary instruc- 
rioii and the like, he cordially recommends such principles as are 
d'-rived from doctrines common to all Christians. In conclusion, 
tlio author expresses a sanguine hope that modern industry, in close 
alliance with Christianity, will more and more succeed in the 
abolition of misery and vice. 

Kkvce Chretiesxe.— August, 18G2.— Lyric Poetry in France, by Rosseau 

Saint Hilaire. Diversities of Hiunan Races, by B. Pozzy. Life in 

Ancient Rome. 
SiTptcinher. — Les !MiserabIes, by Charles Secretan. Diversities of Human 

liaces, by B. Pozzy. 'WTiat one sees in an English Village, by Eug. 

Bt:rster. Last Days of Lefcvre d'Etaples, by Jules Bonnet. 
Octoiter. — Life upon our Globe, ]>j F. Godet. A Study of Voltaire, by 

F. Kulm. The Spiritual Philosophy and Christianity, by F. Bonifas. 

A Visit to ^I. Schelling at Berlin in 1851, by A. Eschenauer. 

Aet. XI.— quarterly BOOK-TABLE. 

jReligion, Theology., and Biblical LiUrature. 

Trudifor Prk'Ms and People. By various writers. 12mo., pjj. 372. Bos- 
ton: "Walker, Wise, & Co. 1862. 

This volume presents itself as a soft-spoken mediator between the 
Kssays and Reviews and their orthodox opponents. Its own stand- 
point, disclosed gradually as the reader advances, is thus incident- 
ally indicated in a passage expounding M. Comte's ignorance of 
the true moral condition of the English mind : " Entirely ignoring 
t' rnighty movement of religious regeneration led, in the eight- 
eenth century, among the many by the Wesleys and Whitelleld, 
among the few by William Law, and which, as it takes hold by 
'Jfgrees of the vitals of the Anglican Church, gives birth through 
Alexander Knox to the Anglo-Catholic, through Simeon to the 
Kvangclical, through Coleridge to what may be called the essen- 
tially theological school of our renewed Divinity." It is, then, a 
production of the refined, spiritual, and fervid Coleridgian, Mauri- 
cum Theology, claiming its advocates to bo the aristocratic couu- 
tt-rpart of the Methodistic commonalty. 

it is difficult to draw a sketch of a theology which systematic- 
^>>y avoi(ls and abjures all sluxrp outlines of doctrinal statement, 
and prefers to reveal itself in delicate and finely-hued blurs. Truth 
•tated with precision, it scornfully denounces as "dogma" — a term 

164 . Quarterly Booh -Table. [January, 

which serves to brand every clear exposition of any tenet they 
reject. As near as we can discern the bearings of their theology it 
is as follows : 

Christ, as second in the Trinity, is head of the human race ; for 
whom he has made an atonement, not by substitution, but by sacri- 
fice of himself wholly and entirely to the will of God, to meet 
whatever sulferings may result. Identifying themselves with him 
in such utter self-consecration to God, men are justified in him, and 
saved through him. So blessed is that headship of Christ, and so 
eflicient is his satisfaction imto God for all the sins of all the race, 
that his atonement is very likely, perhaps very sure, to result, at 
some future flo^\^ng period, in the course of the rolling a3ons, in a 
complete and bk-ssed redemption for all. The Uible contains the 
true word of God; is inspired; it is not known or definable in 
precisely what sense, but in such a sense as is no other book; 
so that it is the apex of the pyramid of all existing records. 
Miracles are not evidential ; for the real evidence of truth is its 
own self-evidencing truthfulness. They were simply niUjhty tcorks, 
well suited to awaken an uncidtivated age, for the purpose of 
drawing men's attention, awakening and training their minds to 
an exalted view of the character and mission of the Son of God. 
To a student of modern science they are ill-suited as means of 
"evangelical demonstration." The freest range is to bo allowed to 
modern criticism in judging and rejecting parts more or less of the 
sacred canon, although the whole book is generally accepted as 
Bible. "Bibliolatry," however, is hardly better than Mariolatry, 
as being an obstacle to the true freedom of the human spirit, and 
a check upon a genuine religious feeling. In this way the advo- 
cates of tliis "renewed theology" believe that the intuitions of the 
human spirit can be satisfied, the demands of the age can be met, 
the utmost dcsiraljlu scope can be allowed for religious individuali- 
ties, a most scholarly theology can be mamtainod, a true spiritual 
religion, amounting to a refined iMethodism, can be " enjoyed," 
and Christianity, on its revised foundations, can stand the revolu- 
tions of mind and the shocks of time. 

It is difiicult to read Mr. Maurice without believing that, in spite 
of his solemnly acce])ting the formulas of ordinary theology in a 
sense diverse from their aj)parent original intention, he is a man 
of a genuine earnest religious sincerity. As matter of fact, he is 
said to be a man of eminently pure life and fervent bcnevok-nce. 
There cannot be a doubt that he really feels that he and his school 
are rescuing Christianity from wreck in the present and coming 
age by placing its theology on a tenable basis. lie proposes to 

1S03.] Quarterly Book-TalU. 165 

iJiape our religion to llie deiuands of the waning nineteenth and 
coming twentieth century. This he would do, not by the whole- 
ti:ilo surrenders and trenchant assaults of Theodore Parker ; Ifut by 
insensible modifications, by conciliatory restatements, by enlarg- 
niont of cautious freedoms, and yet by retaining all that does not 
i-i'iitra-lict or enslave the intuitions, and by insisting on the superior- 
ity of the rich religious spirit to the dry tlieological " dogma." 

IJcsides Mr. Maurice, other able and scholarly writers have contrib- 
uted to the Tolurae. Mr. Hughes, of Tom Brown fame, shows how 
gracefully the " renewed theology " can sit upon a refined English 
laytnan. Kev. Francis Garden, sub-dean of her majesty's chapel royal, 
discusses the atonement. J. M. Ludlow, in a dialogue, maintains that 
honest doubt is not always condeninable want of the spirit of faith; 
aiui ilie same Mr. Ludlow, in two " Lay Dialogues," discusses with 
Minch acuteness the laws of nature and Comte's Positive Philosophy. 

A Complete System of Christian Theology ; or, a Concise, Comprehensive, 
and Systematic View of the Evidences, Doctrines, Morals, and Institu- 
tion^ of Christianity. By Sasiuel Wakefield, D.D. 8vo., pp. 6G4. 
New York : Carlton & Porter. 1862. 

'Hie need has long been felt of a system of Theology, compact, 
yet complete, better calculated for our candidates for the ministry, 
*nd for our reading and retlecting laymen, than any extant. Wat- 
*<jti is, as a whole, unsurpassed in the English language as a sys- 
tcnuitic theological author. Ilis work lias had no little influence 
in disciplining the minds and forming the views of our ministry. 
It is very undesirable, indeed, that his Institutes should be struck 
from our course of studies. But it needs no little acquaintance 
•itlj the nomenclature of theology, and no little logical training, 
to read his work with combined pleasure and profit. A work on 
•vhf b.-tsis of Watson, in a similar style, with a less elaborate ^^truc- 
i-rc of periods, more brief as a whole, yet funiishing a discussion 
«^f foiue important topics omitted by Watson, was therefore a real 
'!< -i'leratura. The task Avas undertaken by Dr. Wakefield, and 
'■i's been performed so well that we have hardly any fault to find 
^ ilh it, unless it be in the form of a regret that the Avork was not 
♦1'iirt'ly original and independent, giving us Wakefield alone and 

• tting \\ atson stand in his own untouched position. Dr. Wake- 
•* iJ s name has hardly been known to the Church as that of an 

* ''e theological writer, and the completeness of his success, attested 
> the more than ordinary routine compliments of the press, has 

'•^ken some of us by surprise. 

^ >^ hy should not this book be in tlie hands of our laity, in their 
" "■'1'^" :*, and, in handsome form, upon tlieir tables ? Every layman,.. 
»-oiKTn Sekies, YoL. XV.— 11 

166 Quai'terly Booh -Table. [JTannaiy, 

at any rate, who voted for lay delegation, attesting thereby his 
belief that the laity have some interest in the doctrines and disci- 
pline of the Church, is, we think, bound to purchase and peruse it. 
To have read well its pages would be no ordinary advantage to any 
man. To have mastered its contents is to be no mean theologian. 
As editor of the work, we arc bound to say that we ai-e not to be 
held as believing all we have indorsed for publication. There are 
points in which the author bases himself upon "Watson, in which we 
concur with neither. There are points of philosophy in which jNIr. 
"Watson followed the prevalent theories of the Locke philosophy 
which Dr. "Wakefield has preserved, and which we should have 
expunged and replaced with the reverse view. There are some 
mmor points of theology in which we differ from him. By way of 
compromise the author did make some concessions to the editor in 
expunging some views ; and the editor has conceded other points 
in which he could not concur. Yet, as a whole, as to the main 
, outlines of our Arminian "Wesleyan theology, we know of no Avork 
which can be pronounced a truer and completer representation 
than the volume before us. 

Dr. "Wakefield's style is a very clear, solid, straightforward ex- 
pression of the thought. lie has few, if any, sentences that require a 
second perusal to be understood by any reader who knows the meaning 
of the terms. lie has a true skill in analysis', and the lucid and exhaust- 
ive division of the matter, marked by the proper tyi^ography, greatly 
facilitates the systematic mastery of the subject by the reader, and 
renders it an admirable recitation book. "We advise not the removal 
of Watson from the course of study, but the placing "Wakefield in an 
earlier place as an introductory to the later study of the Institutes. 

Perfect' IjOte ; or. Plain Things, for those who need them, concerning the 
Doctrine, Kxporionce, ProlL'ssion and Practice of Christian Holiness. By 
J. A. Wood, of the Wyominrr Annual Conference. 12mo., pp. 314. 
Boston: H. V. Degen & Son. "l862. 

It is at the present time specially important that the doctrin& of 
Christian Holiness should be maintained with explicit clearness 
and unshrinking firmness, as it was presented in the latest expo- 
sitions of "SVesley, and yet that it be guarded fr*>ni overstatements, 
overactions, and foreign elements, which tend to adulterate and 
bring it into disrepute with many truly evangelical Christians. The 
volume before ns makes no very elaborate attempt at this kind of 
discrimination. It is simply an effort to awaken a desire and an 
earnest seeking for holiness, written with considerable freshness 
of style, backed by the author's own experience. For that very 
important purpose it is perhaps adapted to be effective. 

JSC3J Quarterly Book -Table. 167 

One chapter there is, however, which seems to ns not only 
ft.roitni to, but requiring to be kept entirely separate from, the 
nubjeot of sauctification. We are somewhat acquainted with the 
ii.iec<» of the eminent masters of " Holy Living and Dying," with 
Kt-mpis, and Jeremy Taylor, and Henry More, and Fenelon ; and 
wliili' we recognize in some of them a decided tendency to a holy 
r«-pose, a sanctified quietism, and in others admissions that excited 
roatiitl'Stations are an unavoidable incident, we do not recollect 
In any of them a chapter implying that shouting or falling is 
3» y desirable accompaniment of a work of God, or are any proper 
part of Christian sauctification. There are, indeed, usually in 
every period of great religious excitement unavoidable overac- 
lious of this kind. The Bible attests that in a ruder age religious 
earnestness sometimes manifested itself in shouting, leaping, and 
d:\ricing. But it is a sad thing when these incidentals are by weak 
l'»Tsons exalted, as they sometimes are, to regular institutions, and 
inaile tests of the genuineness and the exaltedness of piety. Such 
p^Tsons Mill graciously admit that some who are Christians do not 
fhont, but perhaps it is "because they have nothing to shout for." 
!NVhere this test of piety and superior holiness becomes established 
in a given Church, those who have no other qualifications are sure 
to adopt this route to distinction. To disregard the standai'd of 
civilization around them, and to overlook and override the feelings 
of fellow-Christians, are, in their view, a religious merit, a ti'iumph 
f'f militant piety. More intelligent and thoughtful Christians 
titlier, like Edward Irving, bow in submission to these self-anointed 
•lictators ; or, browbeaten and disheartened, silently retire, carry- 
»»;.? their influence and means to build up the institutions of other 
< hurches, which rise in power and success around us, and leaving 
^'■^ a residuum of feeble piety without influence. or hold upon 
t^w community, a standing quotation against Methodism, and an 
argument against all profession or attainment of higher religious 
>i^i'. In such a community you will hear it said, " There are mem- 
l"-rs enough gone from us to other Churches to form here, by them- 
»''lves, a powerful Methodist Church." To steer clear of these 
• vi!s without checking the spirit of a trua Christian zeal, and pro- 
during a reactionary coldness, is often a difficult problem. It 
^(•"I'lires the application of a skillful, loving, chastening hand upon 
^'•c- part of the wise pastor. 

^naojis Preathid, and Betised. By the Kev. C. II. Spukgeon. Seventh 

^ru's. Kew York : Sheldon & Co. Boston : Gould & Lincoln. 1862. 
T^'- seventh series means the seventh volume. This fact fully 
J- eidcii that Spurgeon stands the test of publication, of criticism, 

1C8 QuaHcrly Booh -Table. [January, 

and of serai-infidel ribaldiy, and is entitled to be considered an 
immovable "institution." We rejoice that it is so. Setting aside 
his unnecessary streaks of Calvinism, his Sermons cannot fail to con- 
duce to " the spreading of scriptural holiness throughout the land." 

A Manual of WorsTiip, suitable to be used in Legislative Bodies, in the 

■ Army and Navy, and in Military Academies, Asylums, Hospitals, etc. 

Compiled from the forms and in accordance vrith the common usages of 

all Christian denominations, and jointly recommended by eminent 

clergymen of various persuasions. 24mo., pp. 132. Philadelphia : 

George W. Childs. 18G3. 

The prayers and lessons of this bcaxitiful manual are adapted to a 

great vaiiety of public occasions, and are suitable for every religious 

denomination. They are recommended by such authorities as Barnes, 

Durbip, Hodge, Stockton, Bellows, and President Woolsey of Yale. 

Philosophy, Metaphysics, and General Science. 

The Origin and History of the English Language, and of tTie Early Litera- 
ture it Embodies. By Geokge P. JSLarsh, author of "Lectures on the 
English Language," etc., etc. 8vo., pp. 574. New York : Charles Scrib- 
ner & Co. London: Sampson Low, Son, & Co, 1863. 

It is a remarkable fact that it should be reserved for this late day, 
and, for an American scholar to make the requisite thorough 
researches, and bring Avithin possession of the ordinai-y purchaser 
a philosophical, j)ractica], and eloquent history of the origin and 
early progress of our English language. Most scholars, writers, 
and orators use our language as they find it, adopting the practice 
of authors Avhose genius has secured them eminence as their stand- 
ard, regulating tliomselvcs by the laws deduced by grammarians 
from existing facts ; but the genesis and early growth of our mother- 
speech arc as deep in primeval mystery to them as the springs of 
the Nile to the cla.'^sic ages. Mr. Marsh's works, particularly his 
present volume, together with the noble and inspiring example he 
sets, will, we think, do much toward inaugurating a new-era. The 
handlers of our language will feel the deep necessity and a proper 
ambition to master its history and its philosophy. Mr. Marsh 
demonstrates that it is a history and a philosophy fuU of interest 
for the liberal mind. He carries a rich enthusiasm, unalloyed Avith 
eccentricity, through all his labors. His style is rich and roundly 
rhetorical. His numerous quotations from our ancestral authors 
form an old anthol<\gy. Let our young scholars, especially, and 
our aspirants for a full mastery of our hereditary English, treat 
themselves to a thorough study of Mr, Marsh's volumes. 

The period covered by ^Ir, Marsh's history extends from the 

1863.] Quarterly Booh -Table. 169 

roijxn of Henry III. to that of Elizabeth, embracing about four 
centuries. It blends intimately with the political and archaeological 
Iilstory of England; and all combined furnish a picture of the 
tk'vclopment of the mind and character of a nation more important 
to ns than any other portion of modern European history. 

The following table of contents will give a view of its train of 
topics : Origin and Composition of the Anglo-Saxon People and 
their Language ; Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary, Literature, and Gram- 
mar; Semi-Saxon Literature ; English Language and Literature of 
the First Period ; from the Middle of the Thirteenth to the Middle 
of the Fourteenth Century ; Commencement of Second Period — 
from 1350 to the time of the Author of Piers Ploughman; the 
Author of Piers Ploughman and his Imitators ; "Wiclif and his 
Scliool; Chaucer and Gower; The English Language and Litera- 
ture from the Beginning of the Fifteenth Century to the time of 
Caxton ; The English Language and Literitture from Caxton to the 
Accession of PJlizabeth ; The English Language and Literature 
during the Reign of Elizabeth. 

History, Biography, and Topography. 

The Uistory of Metliodism in Canada. With an account of the work of 
CioJ among the Canadian Indian Tribes, and Occasional Notices of 
tlic Civil Aflairs of tlie Province. By George F. Platter, of the 
Wt-sleyan Conference. 12mo., pp. 414. ' Toronto: Anson Green. 1862. 
^Ir. Playter is favorably known to our readers as the contributor 
to our pages of a series of articles on Wesley as a Man of Literature. 
1 he series seemed to show no ordinary power of giving, with a 
^try plain style, an interest to his subject. We received with 
I'icasaut expectation a volume from his hand of history of Canadian 
• '' thodisni. There is so much in common, not only as Americans, 
i'Ht specially as Methodists with Canada, that the subject ought to 
'•»ttract a greater interest than our means of information have been 
•""uicicnt to create. . A common language, a common religious 
ancestry, a common theology and religious spirit, are most ample 
t'roiuids for a mutual fraternal interest. The lirst reception of the 
^ohmie prompted the momentary purpose of making it the ground 
'^'f a brief presentation, in a full review, of the religious history of 
"!ir Canadian brethren to the readers of the Quarterly. 

-'ir. Playter is a pioneer in the work, and it bears the stamp of 

"'«* pioneer character. Like Dr. Bangs's History of Slethodism, it 

•^ the raw material for history rather than the history itself. 

hen our writer comes to the production of his volume it is soon 

»<-<'u that the historical power is not pre-eminent. The plain style 

ITO Quarterly Booh -Table. [January, 

does now and then attract interest ; but the whole wears too much 
a documentary and statistical look to win us to its pages by the 
blending of coloring and truth. The Methodist public are much 
indebted, however, to Mr. Playter for his elaborate researches ; 
for his rescuing the evanescing facts and placing them in history ; 
and we wish him an extended circuhitiou and a full remuneration 
for his labor of love in the belief that it is generally a work of 
truth. The future historian of American Methodism will owe him 
a tribute of thanks. 

Mr. Playter devotes ten pages to a purely poUtical discussion 
of the war of 1812 between America and England. What this 
has to do with the History of Canadian Metliodism Mr. Playter 
would be perplexed to tell. We make free to tell him that it is 
out of place, out of time, out of character, and contains some 
very strange statements for any place or time. It is whollv 
pervaded with an unhistorical, untruthful, partisan spirit. Tliat 
he should be a loyal subject of Queen Victoria, a frank and 
honorable Briton, preferring a constitutional monarchy, and ready 
to maintain his cause, we shouKl fully approve. But why he 
should drag a bitter political discussion, grossly maligning the 
United States, into a history of the spread of the Gospel of 
peace, we know not. It has wonderfully the look of an attempt, 
not to animate the sjiirit of high-toned loyalty to the mother 
country-, but to create and to court the Canadian feelmg of hos- 
tility to this country, much too rife at the present time, and plant 
its bitter seeds in the heart of Canadian Methodists. He is pleased 
to say that "tiie war was no remedy for the evil at all" of which 
America complained; "the British government did after as before 
the war." If Mr. Playter did not know this to be a falsehood, he 
was unpreparod t.. treat the subject. England did not do "after 
as before the war." Never from that day to this has England 
dared to step on board an American ship aiid take an English 
seaman from our ])roteetion. That was the point for which 
America fought ; and bitter for England would at any time since 
tave been the day that slio reiksserted the claim and repeated with- 
out'reparation the <leed. So satisfied was America with the result, 
that opposition to the war was the death of the Federal party. 
The very grounds taken by Mr. Quincey, as quoted by Mr. Playter, 
exiled that gentleman from public life. 

Mr, Playter is evidently jwsscssed with the notion, entertained by 
some Canadians, that the ])eople of this country are ever cherishing 
designs of invading Canada and wresting her from the English gov- 
ernment. Outside the columns of that degraded organ of the lowest 

1563.] Quarterly Book -Table. 171 

depravity in our country, the New York Herald, we have neither 
hoard talk nor seen publications evidencing any such wish. With the 
jM'OjiIo of Canada we have ever desired a friendly feeling and a genial 
intercourse. Such a feeling has, we are happy to say, uniformly 
Wen reciprocated by the Canadian friends with whom it has been 
o'.ir good fortune to have acquaintance. Of that supposed kindly 
felling Mr. Playter's occupancy of the pages of our Quarterly was 
one of the results. We did not then anticipate the reception of so 
malignant a chapter from his pen, and we are frank to say that the 
ninii who thus seeks to infuse the spirit of hostility into either 
section is the unecjuivocal enemy of both. We take this occasion 
to say, that any Canadian Methodist writer who will furnish a 
^tnial article, comprising a compressed history of Canadian Meth- 
(Mlisni, will receive the thanks of editor and readers of the Methodist 
Quarterly Review. 

Belles-Lettres and Classical. 

LOxria's Offering. Being Addresses, Sermons, etc. By Rev. Edwaiid "W. 
BiA-DEN. 8vo., pp. 167. New York. 1S63. 

Tliis magnificent pamphlet — or, shall we call it, this handsome 
volume with a glazed pink paper cover — is the production of a 
Professor in the State College in Liberia, Africa. It commences 
V itli a brief biographical sketch of the author, and consists bodily 
of six addresses, popular and collegiate, delivered in Liberia. It is 
adorned with a fine engraving of the Institution, of which he is one 
of the officers. « 

Ko one would infer from these pieces that not a drop of Caucasian 
^lood adulterated the veins of the hand that wrote them. In a 
«t}le of clear, pure, flowing English, the author defends his race, 
s'iggests the methods of improvement, and points his adopted 
't^Uc, on the soil of his ancestral continent, to the path of honor 
sind prosperity. The book is one of those signs of success which cheer 
w>e hearts of the much maligned cause of Liberian colonization. The 
volume is worthy of the respect of a critical reader, and should 
attract the notice and sympathy of the friends of the human race. 


-^^^'■i and Hyan ; or, the Kev.- Bonnet and Dress. Bv Rkna Ray. Four 
IJliistrations. 18mo., pp. 253. New York : Carlton"* Porter. 1862. 

.SV^/M XJj> the Ixidder; or, the Story of Poor Little Tim. A True Story. 
Three Illustrations. ISmo., pp. 126. New York : Carlton & Porter. 

172 Quarterly Book - Table. [ Janu a r\', 

AVux Barlow ; or, Principle in Everything. A Village History. Six Illus- 
trations. 18mo., pp. 268. New York : Carlton & Porter. 1862. 

Little Mabel's Friends. A Sequel to " Little Mabel and her Sunlit Home." 
By a Lady. Four Illustrations. ISuio., pp. 145. Kew York: Carlton 
& Porter. 18G2. 

Franl's Friend; or, the Rampart of Strasburg. By Rev. K. H. Caspart, 
author of '' The Schoolmaster and his Son." Translated from the Ger- 
man. ISmo., pp. 82. Philadelphia Lutheran Board of Publication. 


The Photograph AUmin, Various Sizes. New York: Carlton ife Porter. 
How many inventions of modern art combine to complete tlii.s 
latest product of the civilization of the age, the Photograph Album ! 
And in spite of the alarms of war and the omens of commercial 
embarrassment, the taste of our public maintains its demand for 
tliis, one of its choicest gratifications. And why not ? Are we 
sure that overretrenchment will not be a common damage, ruining 
our mutual industries, especially those by which our higher wants 
have been supplied ? At any rate do not abolish the supplies for 
the intellect, the heart, and the purer tastes. 

The Adventures of PhiUp, on his "Way through the World, sho^-ing who 
Robbed him, who Helped him, and who Passed by him. By W. M. 
Thackeray, author of " Vanity Fair," '" The Newcombs," " The Vir- 
ginians," '"Pcndenni.-," etc., etc., etc. With Illustrations. 8vo., pp. 267. 
New York : Hari)cr & Brothers. 1862. 

Miriam. By Mariox Harlaxd. 12mo., pp. 419. New York: Sheldon 
& Co. Boston: Gould & Liiicoln. 1SG2. 

Orley Farm. A Novel by .iVxTUONv Trollope, author of " North Amer- 
ica," " Dr. Thorne," '• Framley Parsonage," etc., etc., etc. Illustrated by 
J. E. Millais. 8vo., pp. 338. New York : Haqier & Brothers. 1862. 

A Manual of I nf I 'rmi it ion and Sn'Tjesfionn for Object Lissons. In a Course 
of Elementary Instruction, Ad;ii)ti.d to the Use of the School and Family 
Charts, and other jVids ia Object Teaching. By !^L\RCIl:s Willson, 
Author of "Willson's Historical Scries," "School and Family Readers," 
etc. » 12mo.j pp. 330. New York: Harper & Brothers. 

History of Frederirk the i;econd. called Frederick the Great. By Thomas 
Carlt'le. In Four Volumes. Vol. HI. 12mo., pp. 596. New York- 
Harper & Brothers, 1802. 



So^irees of Poicer in the Minnionanj Etdcrpriae. A Discourse preached before 
the Missionary Society of tlie Detroit Annual Conference of the Methodist 
Episcopal Church. By Hev. T. Q. Gardner, A.M. Published by order 
of the Conference. 12ino., pji. 29. New York : Carlton & Porter. 1862. 
Mr. Gardner has publislicd too little to enable our public to appre- 
ciate his abilities as a master of clear thought in flowing and 

1503 J Quarterly Bodk-Tahle. 173 

picturesque style. We give a paragraph or two to enable our 
roa'lors to decide. 
Influence on missions of a true or false exposition of prophecy: 

The point of divergence is the doctriuo of the millennium. There is a true and a^ idea of the miUennium. The true strengthens the heart and faith of the 
("'hiirch, and inspires all her energies for the conquest of the world. Tlie false 
weakens the Church's very existence, and paralyzes her riglt* arm of power. Tho 
inio makes spiritual causes, flowing through the Church's life and the various 
cluiunc-ls of sanctitied human agency, the means under God of fulliliing the proph- 
t-cios. The false so hteralLzes the scriptural millennium as to take it out of the 
f ivpo and province of spiritual agencies and make it the subject of direct physical 
omnipotence. According to this idea Christ is to reign literally on the earth a 
ihousand years prior to his judgment-advent. He is to take to himself liis great 
t.liy.sical power, is to change thus the surface and appearances of the globe, making 
a new earth if not a new heaven, and in the exercise of arbitrary will and power 
i.s to subdue the nations to his swaj-. Xow we have always considered this inter- 
pri'Uilion as radically false, and as fraught with serious practical mischief to the 
cause of Christ. It reverses at once the mode of the divine procedure in extension 
of Christ's kingdom. It sets aside all the laws of tb« Christian dispensation, and 
i!:.ikf,s the progress of the Gospel and the conversion of souls depend, not on tl:o 
c-utlueuce of the inllnite grace of God with the free-will of man, but on an intensely 
nrbitrary will acting irrespective of all conditions of existence. This theory does 
not, it is true, objetA to the preaching of the Gospel and the maintenance of mis- 
^iun8, but then it puts no real faith in such means for wide-spread and permanent 
rr«ult?, and stamps the whole missionary enterprise as utterly impracticable, so far 
E-. least as it respects the ultimate triumphs of Christianity. It maintains tliat it is 
not the province, and therefore not the duty, of the Church to convert the woricl, 
ii!id that when the predicted time arrives Christ himself will convert the world 
•\ritbout the intervening agency of his Churck Holding to such a view of prophe- 
• ••y, who can put furch any sustained misiionary effort? Unless this missionary 
'■-■iiume comes entirely within the scope of Christian faith it does not come within 
the scope of the Cluirch's power. If your uiterpreting key of prophecy does not 
uiik^'k to your vision the golden gates of a world redeemed to God through the 
jTuaching of the cross by human messengers, prophecy will pour no inspirations 
into your being to work in earnest for the coming of Christ's kingdom. Now we 
U'lieve the true teaching of prophecy to be, that tlio ultimate objects of the mis- 
fijnary enterprise come within the range of weU-directed sanctified human agency; 
l^i''t it is a practicable, common-sense scheme of Christian effort and beneficence ; 
i»i;'l tliat, so surely as the Church shall obey her marching orders and hold her 
<">• :r.'^< steady through the centuries, so surely shall she conquer the world to 
''i.ri.-t. Look into the prophecy-iUumincd future and see that iu the last days the 
CvuuUiuof the Lord's house shall be established in the top of the mountains, and 
»l;:ili be exalted above the hills, and all nations shall flow unto it. The Church 
•"•ill mount up to the highest seats of empire, and the great national waves of the 
W""ld's population shall flow up to the loftiest elevations of regenerated life and 
«i'--*u-nce. Then out of Zion shall go forth the law— the law of the world's his- 
t fy— aind the word of the Lord from Jerusalem, 

Heciproeal relations of Church and Missions : 

An ecclesiastical organization without any missionary outgrowth of aggressive 
"■••a-ures for the propatration of the Gospel may bo a beautiful piece of machinery, 
'• '■■ it »•? not a living Christian Church, On the other hand, we argue from mis- 
f^'.nary operations \o the Church as we do from nature to God. We may infer 
'■'•"1 tiie dew-drop the existence of the ocean, and we trace a Bible from some 
ki,. ly cottage in Asia to the Church of the living God in America. The source 
f-' ah good is God in the intiuitude and eternity of his existence; but the great 
tutie-riBervoir of his grace and wisdom and power is his Church upon earth. 

174 Quarterly Book -Table. [tTanuary, 

Cause and Probable Results of the Civil War in America. Facts for the 
People of Great Britain. By William Tatlor, of California, author of 
" Seven Years' Street Preaching in San Francisco," etc. 12mo., pp. 30. 
London : Simpkin, Marshall, & Co. 1862, 
This pamphlet by Mr. Taylor marshals a large mass of facts, pre- 
sented in a forcible "way, showing the true nature of the slave- 
holders' rebellion. England too earnestly desires our national 
dismemberment to regard the argument. Otherwise it would be 
as eflective as it is imanswerable. For how can any friend of free- 
dom and righteousness, any enemy of human bondage, especially 
since the President's proclamation and his message of 1S62, pretend 
to doubt that the true foe with which our free North struggles is 
the fell power of American slavery ? 

"We said nearly a year ago that the only basis of permanent 
peace is a Northernization of the South. Short of this we are two 
nations, and no documentary unions can make us one. Our worst 
enemies are, and ever have been, the coynjxromisers. There is no 
safe intermediate between the complete abolishment of the old 
and creation of a new South, homogeneous with the Xorth, or an 
inauguration of two independent nationalities. That renovation 
of the South may consist of the entire destruction of slavery, and 
the occupancy of the vacant lands of the South by a hardy, indus- 
trious, free yeomanry. Then, not until then, we may hope to be 
not a mere Union but a Unit. 

Late, yet sure in the accomplishment of this view, comes the 
President's Proclamation of Emancipation. We trust that before 
our readers trace our words its consummation w^ill be a fact of 
history. No great convulsion, no disintegration of southern society 
will ensue. But a blow will be given, quiet, without a shock, by 
which the legal bond will be forever broken, and southern society 
will be compelled to readjust itself to the new order of things. 
The slave will become a hired laborer. The late slaveholders will 
be the most decided o]'ponents of the phantasy of general coloniza- 
tion. The system of tree labor being inaugurated, and the power 
of the oligarchy broken, confiscation, immigration, and renovation 
will be the desirable results. IIow completely and how rapidly 
this programme is to be fuUilled time will decide. - 

Christian Predesiinatiun ; or, the Predetermined Providential Appointment 
of them that love God t(j sullVr with Jesus, that with Him they may 
be Glorified. Beiiif; an Exposition of lloinans viii, 29, 30, deduced criti- 
callv from the text. By the Kev. Joii>- S. EvAisg. 18mo., pp. 48. 
Quebec. 1862. 
Tliis is a very acute ]>ieco of l/iblieal argument. Its aim is to furnish 
a true and natural exposition of a standing proof-text appropriated 

1863.] The Denial of Final Causes. 175 

by C.ilvitilsm. The critic would rescue the tenns " called," " justi- 
f,c<l," and "glorified" from the technical sense which a system has 
fa-'^U'iicd to them, and which inveterately spring up as soon as the 
words are heard. His exposition is that the foreknown are " the 
/jilhd" to suffer the "afflictions" of the previous context; "in 
hnpe" that in those "afflictions" they are "justified," and "glori- 
fi<.'(l " by a sustaining, defending, honoring God. 

7'he Great Specific against Despair of Pardon ; or, Christ's Propitiation and 
Advocacy extending alike to every Sinner without exception. A Dis- 
course before the Genesee Conference of ^Ministers of the Methodist 
Kpiscopal Church at its session in Albion, and published at its order 
and expense. By Rev. I, CHAitBERLATJTE. 12mo,, pp. 32. New York : 
Curlton & Porter. 18G3, 
Dr. Chamberlayne has a miud that delights to grapple with the 
grand doctrines and hard problems of old theology, lie here takes 
Htaud, with able, manly argument, against the doctrine that any 
mrtn before death "^ins away his day of grace," or — if we under- 
ftand him — commits " the tmpardonable sin." Against this doc- 
trijje he arrays in mass the counter principle that the Atonement 
rrachos not only every sinner but every sin. $till, with every 
respect for the able author, we do not see how this contravenes 
the declaration of Christ that there is one sin without forgiveness, 
ijiasmuch as it blasphemes and drives away, by its enormity, that 
spirit A\hose gracious aid is co?iditio?i to all repeyitajice. Our 
iinpression is that millions are lost because we cannot awaken 
their fear to one who perishes from " despair." 

Akt. xn.— the denial of final causes. 

The remarks on final causes at page 39 are so obtruded upon 
the train of thought that we could have easily separated them 
from the article, but have preferred to retaui them as a specimen 
C'f tlie godless naturalism which is at the present day infecting 
Liiropoan science. From the fiict that. certain phenomena appear in 
mature, which plainly serve no purpose of utility, it is inferred that 
tliert is no design in creation at all; that things are nsed, because are antecedent favorable conditions for use ; but that X(se is 
^I'Jt the end or purpose for which anything exists. " So the true 
•i^turalist will say that birds fly because they have wings; but 
^';ver birds have wings iyi order that they may fiy." It is not clear 
from Marlins's quotation whether De Candollc intended to limit all 

1 T6 The Denial of Final Causes. [January, 

reasoners by his maxim, or naturalists as such only. If the latter, he 
was only stating the boundaries of natural science. It may indeed 
be true, that such is the only maxim for the naturalist ; but that 
does not settle the question whether a thinker of a wider range 
may not accept both propositions, and say, " Not only do birds Hy 
hecaitse they have wings, but they have wings in order that they 
may fly." 

Our naturalist affords us in this essay a beautiful view of the 
structural system of living nature. One thing strikes us on a com- 
prehensive glance at its whole. The principle of its plan, namely, 
the blending o? uniforndty mid variety^ is a contiiigeri% not a neces- 
sary principle. It is not a system of organic necessity, originating 
like the steps of a geometric demonstration, solely possible, self- 
existent, and rising witli a structure, in which every successive 
step results from the preceding. A system of uniformities with 
ad Uhitum variations is a system of a selective character, picked 
out of countless other supposably possible systems, formed with 
an outline and a coherent intellective plan, of which the prin- 
ciples are intcllectively detected, and are found to be perfectly in 
accordance with the laws of volitional thought. The only solution 
of their origi7i then, since blind causational necessity is out of the 
question, is intdlifjcnt choice ; and intelligent choice, present at and 
anterior to the selection of the plan, and comprehending the whole, 
basing it on Us actual pritu-iples. 

What are those })rinciples ? The naturalist tells us m this article. 
They are " uniformity in type and variety in modification." This 
is the fundan^ental law, and the whole system is its fulfillment. 
But what is the law for? It is for the purpose of regulating the 
actions of every part of the system, so as to produce its whole. 
What are the actions of its parts and particles for? To so obev 
the law as to complete its organic plan. What is the synthesis of 
law and actions for? To produce the entire system. The very 
selection of the system, of its laws, and of the action of the elements 
according to its laws, is inexplicable without the supposition of 
design. So far, then, from furnishing a refutation of the law of 
design thus fxr, the whole 'scheme of the naturalist seems obliged 
to illustrate its existence. 

But how are these laws" by us discovered? By observing the 
facts. But docs not the same observation find out that the sxih- 
serviences to use are quite as numerous as the " varieties in modi- 
fication?" Are there not infinite multiplicities of curious, won- 
derful, and use-serving action and operation attained at least 
hy the icay f The naturalist will teU us that he had nothing to 

16G3.] TTie Denial of Final Causes. 177 

,)o with these. We reply, then he had nothing to do with, and 
no right to say anything about the existence or non-existence of 
the doctrine of ends. If he has nothing to do ■with this, others 
may belong to a broader and higher school ; and over-passmg his 
limits, they may say that ice have something to do with them. 
They may claim to find uniformity in ti/pe^ variety in modification, 
and both snhservient to i?ifini(e varieties of use. 

This subserviency to t(se is no more to be destroyed by the 
«-xistence of arrangements made to secure other principles, namely, 
the law sometimes of imiformity, sometimes of variety, than the 
fact of variety and- imiformity is destroyed by the myriads of sub- 
ordinations to the law of use. The fact, at any rate, of subserviency 
lo use is too universal and overwhelming in amount, and too posi- 
tive in its character and in its artistic complicated and converging 
combinations, to be possibly mistaken without a most perverse and 
inveterate purpose to be mistaken. But in the light of the remarks 
thus fir made, let us survey the exceptions to the law of .use by 
which Martins and Goethe would overthrow its existence. 

That the useless nipple is given to man on the law of u?iiformity 
docs not in the least contradict the fact that the breast is given to 
the woman for use; namely, for the purpose of nourishment; a 
puqjose without which the race cannot be preserved ; a purpose 
•Ivuionstrated by its pervading character for the female of a large 
l^'cnus of beings, for which it is necessary as a means of generic 
existence. That the useless whigs of the apterix preserve the law 
of uniformity does not disprove that those of the eagle and the lark 
preserve the law of use. That the ox hooks because he has horns 
nobody denies ; but the fact that there are animals not so well pro- 
vided does not in the least disprove the purpose of fulfilling the 
law of variety by making him an aggressive and self defensive ani- 
mal. There may be a variety of variations from the law of use 
^thout destroying that law, as well as from the law of uniformity 
of type without destroying that law. Each law may take its turn, 
and with due " variety " blend, even in the same case. 

There is in this matter a question which both Martins and Goethe 
t-verlook. The true question is not, " Why do birds fly ?" but, 
How came this compUcated, converging, and most exquisite 
adjustment of conditions by which birds are aide to fly ? Nor 
"oos Mr. Darwin's ''natural selection" at all aid us here; for the 
Suestion still recurs, IIow came this most complex and yet mcTSt 
^^'inpiete system, in which "natural selection" has its chances of 
^-'Hi-ctive work? "iSTatural selection" operates with wonderful 
fcuccess ; but it must possess as truly wonderful a synthesis of prin- 

178 ^ The Denial of Final Causes. [January, 

ciples, a framework and system within which to work, as genius 
ever invented or art constructed. " TVhat is the solution to this so 
complicated yet so complete and structural a system ? 

It is a plain first principle of all reasoning 'that an immediate 

and ample solution of a 2>rohlem should not he rejected in behalf of 

a more dutant and less ample one; still less /or no otherxohnterer 

OJ this comphcated system we have a complete and ample solution' 

If It may but be even for a moment tried. The supposition, nameh-' 

of an anterior Intellect conceiving the plan ^^ith an executive Will 

adequate to its execution, does furnish all the conditions nece^^arv 

for the solution of this qi.ostion ; and there is not only no better ^but 

there is positively no other whatever. And we might leave il for 

matter of reflection whether it is not intuitively certain that 3Iind 

such as, or at least analogous to, the mind which we are conscious 

ourselves of possessmg, must not be the cause of plans, of a nature 

so purely rational. ' 

Take for instance the human tongue, viewed as the orc^an of 

speech, and consider what an infinite number of adjustments of the 

most complex character must prece^le, in order to its bein^r an 

ar iculate organ. And still further back, consider its connection 

Auth the anterior physical frame of man ; then its adjustment to the 

ear not merely of the mdividual, but of all other indidduals : requir- 

U^^uHit in . . ''T '^^'''' '''''^' ^°""^' ^^^ °^'^^-^^ ^vith 
bT W ; )?. ^-^^^^Ptation to be the medium of commimicat- 

abdication of common sense, the perceiving that the ear and the 
tongue are predictive of human intercourse, Society, and a social Z 
tern. Is It not most plain to every man's reason that all this can have 
no an ccedont solution but the presupposition of an anterior poten 
al Mind,_a mind wliich understands mind, which designs design, 
Mhich anticipates fiicts, society, history, and makes the most won! 
derfid provision for such results^ The man who comprehends all 
the e mnumorable and infinitesimal requisite complications, and 
then says, "Men talk because they have lungs, throat, tonUes, 
vocalitj^ ears, and minds, all adjusted hannoniouslv and converg- 

dVa n .'• ""f ''^"''' '' '"^^""^ '^'^' "these conditions a?e 

^e..:7«.5% combined zn order th.t speech and the social svste.n 
maj, exist, disuses his honest common-sense 

EuJu, "^'t '^''' ^"'""^ "''"'■' '' "^' ^'^^ ^ geometric problem of ' 
^uc d, whose origin is in necessity, and whose every step follows 

Wet.l '''"?"'' ''''^ "" intrinsic adamantine necessitv. 

we wall now say that it is like a parable of the divine Lord of 

1$G3.3 The Denial of Final Causes. 179 

nature and teaclicr from its phcuomcna — the blessed Jesus. These»lcs consist of a main outline desig^ied for practical illustration, 
with voluntary finishings designed to complete the narrative or form 
:i natural and touching picture. Who would be such a fool as to 
nay, "This parable has no meaning ; for look at that additional and 
i:>fK'.^s detail, which has no practical or illustrative application !" 
NVc would tell him that use is sometimes attained by the addition 
of honiething useless^ — useless, that is, in the sense of not serving 
ihc immediate purpose, but more useful in the end just because it 
postpones the use. So the very law of uniforniity in variety is 
not only an intelligential law, but it is a law oi' use ; and the whole 
hj-Ptem with its laws merges into a system of use. And thereupon 
the human mind will ever be impelled and authorized by its own 
imperative nature to ask of the whole the old question, "Whafis 
till" end of God in creation ?" 

Xaturalists are doubtless great men, and many of them are 
good men ;* but they are not lords of all discussion. And it is very 
arrogant for them first to exclude every consideration which does 
not belong to their department, and then to issue a ukase to which 
every other department of the world of thought is expected to 
I'ow, reqiuring all to stop at their terminal point. It is very stupid 
fr>r them to draw conclusions which may be good for them, but 
V. hen broader considerations are adduced modifying the univer- 
sality of their conclusions, to answer, " That does not belong to 
I'ly department." The exclusive naturalist may never go beyond 
'* birds fly because they have wuigs." The 2^hiloso2)her will say, 
" Birds fly because they have wings, A>fD they have wings in order 
that they may fly." 

The following books have been received too late for full notice 
m our January mnnber : 

^/ra Ccehstis, by A. C. Tho>[son. Boston : Gould & LiQColn, 

fliyplins's Moral Science, by the same Publishers. 

Oaussen on the Canon — a superb volume. American Tract Society. 

Of this last a/ notice will in fact be found in our Foreign Literary 

* It is due, we believe, to the scientific men of our country to say that the great 
**^J of thorn take ground against skepticism. American science is not irrch'gious. 

180 Plan of Episcopal Visitation for l^Qo. [January. 


Oonferenoe. Place. 

Kentucky Hartford 

BALTiifoRE Georgetown 

East Baltijiobk York, Pa 

Liberia Careysbnrgh 

MissoLiti AJf D Arkansas . . Ilanuibal .". 

Kansas La^vrence 

New Jersst Burlington 

Philadelphia Westchester, Pa 

PiTTSBCEGH Coshocton, Ohio 

Western Vikginia Fairmont 

Nebraska Brownsville 

Newark Heddiiig Church, Jersey City. 

New Englan^d High-street, Charlesto-wn 

New York East South-second-st., Brooklyn. . 

Pr.oviL«ENCE Warren. E. I .' 

New Haiip3bire Haverhill, Mass 

North Indiana Wabash 

Wtomino Susquehanna, Pa 

New York Washington t^quare, N. Y 

Troy Fort Edward 

VERilONT St. AlbiUl-S 

Black Eiver Arsenal-street, Watenown. . . 

Maine Chestnut-street, Portland 

Oneida Cortland 

East if aine Eockland 

German Bremen 

Erie Ashtabula 

Oregon Lebanon 

California Napa City . . . .♦ 

CiNcxxNATi Xeniu 

N'-i;:t!i On:o M.;unt Vernon 

We.-iteun Iowa Winterset 

West Wisconsin Ludi, Dane County 

Central Ohio Upper Sandusky .' 

East Genesee Penn Yan 

Iowa Newton, Jasper County 

Ohio Lancaster 

Central Ilunois Canton 

Detroit Romeo .- 

Indiana Washington 

Soutueastekn Indiana. . . Columbus 

Un-ER Iowa Davenport . 

Michigan Jackson 

Lock Kiveu r.ooku.rt 

Southern Illinois Mount Carmel 

Minnesota Hastings 



February 26*. 

March 4 . 

" 4 . 

. " 4 . 

" 4 . 

" 11 . 

" 13 . 

" 18 . 

" 18 . 

" 18 . 

» 25 . 

25 . 

1 . 

1 . 

1 . 


15 . 
15 . 
15 . 
22 . 
22 . 
22 . 
29 . 
20 . 
15 . 
12 . 

September 2 

North-west I>t)iana. 



North-west Wisconsin , 

Michiiran Citv 



West Eau Claire . . . 


• Thursday. 


9 . 
16 . 

16 . 
16 . 
16 . 
16 . 
23 . 
23 . 
23 . 
30 . 
SO . 



7 . 



, . Morris. 

, . Simpson. 

. Scott. 

, . Burns. 

. . Ames. 

, . Ames. 

. . Scott. 

, . Simpson. 

, . jAIfES. 

, . Morris. 
, . Ames. 
. . Baker. 
, . Scott. 
, . Bakeb. 
, . Janes. 
, . Baker. 
, . Morris. 

, . Ja>'E3. 

, . Scott. 
. . Bakek. 
.. Simps. .N. 
. . Janes. 
. . Slmpson. 
, . Baker. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Ames. 
. . Simpson. 
, . Jakes. 
. . Janes. 
. . Baker. 
. . Morris. 
. . Ames. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Scott. 
. . Ames. 
. Bakek. 
. . Scott. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Morris. 
. . Baker. 
. . Ames. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Scott. 
. . Baker. 
. . Ames. 
. . Morris. 
. . Simpson. 
. . Scott. 
. . Ames. 
. . Scott. 

Correction. — In our notice of Ur. Stockton's book of poems 
we imputed to him the doctrine that "denominational organiza- 
tions are -wrong." In a private note to us he states that he liolJs 
no such doctrine, and wonders whence we " derived tliis notion."' 
It is of little consequence ic hence ; Lut M'e cheerfully record tlic 
correction of our misstatement to which he is entitled. 



APRIL, 1863. 

Art. I.— natural THEOLOGY. 

"•The invisible tilings of God," says St. Paul, "from the crea- 
ti"ii of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the 
tilings that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead." . 
This being premised, it follows that the more deeply we inquire 
into nature, and the wider we make our circle of knowledge, the 
ir.t.rc will the wisdom, power, and goodness of the Creator shine 
funli. False views of nature, and a narrow conception of the 
yhn of the imiverse and of the relation of its parts, almost neces- 
sarily lead to false views of God. We should, therefore, hail 
^'itli peculiar delight the daily accessions that are made to our 
knowledge of nature, although there should occasionally appear 
1 iivnomena which seem to militate against the wisdom and 
P'jv^lness of God, and may be pressed i)ito an unholy cause by 
'-i'.' false interpreters of nature; we should rest assured that 
5li<-M? discrepant phenomena will be ultimately ex]')lained, and 
fiirni.-h new proof of the divine attributes. Just as the complex 
w»d erratic motions of the moon, which bafHed the genius of 
^^■^N ton, and were for a long time regarded as a strong oljjec- 
•i^'ti to lii^i theory of gravitation, but now, l.'cing explained, afford 
* striking proof of its truth. 

/It is not necessary for us to inquire whether man without 
'-vino revelation M-ould have had any idea of a God. The 
iro'.f of the divine existence derived from nature is uo^more 
louKTH Series, Vol. XY.— 12 

182 Natural Theology. [April, 

affected by the determiuation of this question than the truth of 
the !N"e\vtonian system is affected by the answer to the ques- 
tion, whether Kepler and IS'ewton could have demonstrated the 
plan of the solar system if Copernicus had not suggested the 
idea to them. Pythagoras first demonstrated the theorem that 
bears his name ; but, independently of his authority, we can 
prove that in every right-angled triangle the square of the 
hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares of the other two 

By Natural Theology, tl^erefore, we mean that which can be 
proved concerning God from the structure of the universe, inde- 
pendently of tlie OAithority of revelation. • 

In appealing to the structure of the universe for the proof 
of the existence and character of God, it is assumed that 
this mundane fabric is not eternal. But we need not dwell 
long on this point, since there is scarcely any one that will noio 
advocate its eternity. That the planetary system is not eternal, 
may be argued from the existence of a resisting medium in 
space, which has already retarded Encke's comet, and which in 
the course of time, probabl}' millions of years, will stop the 
planets. "The chronometer of the heavens must" therefore 
'' have been wound up within a limited time, for it has not yet 
rim duwn." The continual changes that occm- in the earth 
show that it is not self-subsisting. According to the opinion of 
the most eminent physicists it was once a fiery mass. Certain- 
it is that as we descend from its surface its heat increases, so 
that at the depth of not many miles it must be a liquid mass. 
The upheaval of mountains of granite, the distortion of numer- 
ous strata of our globe's crust, and the remains of extinct volca- 
noes, all bear witne^3 to the existence of powerful internal 
fii-es which exhibited themselves with great intensity in the 
early history of our planet, and which indeed have not yet 
subsided. Its oblate form shows that in all probability when 
its diurnal motion began it was in a fluid state. And it can 
be demonstrated matheuuitically that its present form would 
precisely follow from its rotating in a fluid state with the veloc- 
ity it now has. 

Sir Charles Lyell, who differs from most natural philosophers 
respecting the primitive history of our planet, nevertheless 
remarks : 

1S(>3.) Natural Theology. 183 

If, in tracing back the earth's history, "we arrive at the monu- 
nu-nts of events which may have happened millions of ages before 
tmr limes, and if "\ve still tind no decided evidence of a commence- 
!iu-nt, yet the argmnents from analogy iii support of the probabil- 
ity of a beginning remain unshaken ; and if the past duration of 
the earth be finite, then the aggregate of geological epochs, how- 
s\('X numerous, must constitute a mere moment of the past, a mere 
infinitesimal portion of eternity. — Principles of Geology. 

The only form of infidelity from which Christianity has any- 
thing to fear is the Theoin/ of Development. A. theory of moral 
development has been formed by the rationalists of Germany to || 
explain the sublime system of moral truth contained in t!ie 
IJible, without recurring to divine inspiration. According to 
this theory the monotheism of the Jewish religion was a simple 
development of polytheism, and Christianity sprang up spon- 
t;inoously out of Judaism. A system of natural development 
has been de\-ised by certain students of nature to explain the 
order and harmony of the natural world without having recourse 
to a designing mind. The history of the moral world refutes 
the furmcr theory, and the history of the natural world shows 
t!ie falsity of the latter. 

No writer, either in ancient or modern times, has given sucli 
a systematic theory of development as the author of " The Yes- 
tiK<^'6 of the Xatural History of Creation," His work is plausi- 
-'•c, but not profound, appealing to our ignorance rather than 
t" our knowledge. As it is one of the most popular forms of 
iiilidelity, perhaps we should say atheism, and lies directly in 
"tir way, and may be regarded as a type of the whole class, we 
'•i:iH examine those parts of it that mostly concern us. 

^^ e may pass by his universally diffused " firemist," his for- 
'"ation of the' solar system by the simple operation of dynamic 
''»w, and enter at once into the organic world. But while 
^t' do this we are free to say that in our judgment no natu- ' 
^J Jaw will explain the distribution of matter in the solar sys- 
'^■iii, the density of the planets, their relative distances from the 
'j'n. their inclination to the plane of their orbit, the period of ' 
'•"■•»r rotation, the retrograde motion of the satellites of Uranus, 
'^r^'l the constitution of the sun himself. 

_ lie great argument for the existence and attributes of God 
•" " lje tound in the organic world, in that wonderful variety 

plantfi and animals, in the adaptation of means to ends, in 

184: Natural Theology. [April, 

the great plan that is seen everwhere, from the smallest spire 
of grass to the largest oak, from the small infusoria to the great 
elephant, from the mollusca up to man. The great difficulty of 
the atheist, after the formation of tha solar system upon the 
nebular hypothesis, is to stock the earth with living beings. 
By the operation of what hiw shall this be eifected ? "We know 
something of the forces of nature, gravitation, chemical affinity, 
magnetism, and electricity. The natural philosoplier may 
employ these forces as he pleases. He may increase the intens- 
ity of almost any of them to the greatest degree, he may com- 
bine his chemical elements, but no plant or animal can he pro- 
duce. Between the combinations of matter and organic life 
there is a great gulf that no natural law can bridge over. 

As to the origin of plants, we know of none that do not 
spring from seeds. They " are always produced under the 
influence of a living body similar to themselves, or to what they 
will become." * Nor is there much difficulty in regard to the 
manner of their dispersion over the earth from their original 
habitat. "Winds, waters, birds, quadrupeds, and men assist in 
carrying out the dc.-igns of Providence by scattermg them, 
which, upon finding a suittiblc condition, germinate. Cooper- 
ation of natural law could produce one hundred thousand species 
of ])lants. Law is power acting Avith^miformity. But how 
shall the same law produce such different results? How could 
the germs be formed from which the plants could be developed \ 
About what point in the simple elements would the atoms 
gather \ There is a permanency in the species of plants, and 
each one ot* the species was, it seems, originally created in but 
one locality and left to extend itself by natural means. Dr. 
Gray says : 

All classification and system in natural history rest upon the 
fundamental idea of the original creation of certain forms which 
have naturally been {KM-petuatcd miL-hangcd, or with such changes 
onlv as Ave niay couciive or jirove to have arisen from varying 
physical intluonccs, accidental circumstances, or from cultivation. — • 
Botanical 2\j:t-l}uoL\ ]>. o5S. 

Kor were all the trees in the early history of the planet ot 
the simplest form. 

In the ancient sti'ata of the carboniferous era about five hundred 
species of plants have been found. Among these scarcely a trace 
♦ Dr. Gray. 

jQ(^_] 2saturol Tlieology. 185 

lias vet been discovered of tlie simjjlest forms of flowerless vegeta- 
tion' On the other hand, there aj.pears a remarkable predomi- 
nance of ferns, several of them arborescent, and ].hmts allied to the«">i'odium5 of Sfisrantic size, many of which, called Lepidodendra, 
runied larcre and tall trees. Other plants of the Equisetacece also 
abound, and -svere of large dimensions, so that on the whole the 
Cryploiramic class at least exhibits in this era very fo.yhhf organ- 
ij-A-d species. There existed at the same time many species of conif- 
erous trees, allied to tlie Norfolk Island pine or Araucaria tribe. — 
J.'jdCs PrmcipU^ of Geology. 

We will DOW pass from the vegetable to the animal kingdom. 
The doctrine of spontaroeou-s generation of insects, once so pop- 
ular, is now held by very few nat A-alists. Microscopical inves- 
tigations have set aside all the supposed cases of spontaneous 
generation. To prove the doctrine \voiild be quite impossible. 
It is evident that in all cases, where we are abl* to inquire into 
the origin of animated beings, they spring from parents ; and 
Ri the few apparent exceptions are those which are rather too 
intricate for otir full investigation, we have every reason to 
k-lieve that it is a universal law. In reference to internal par- 
asites, Professor Owen remarks : 

The average number of the ova of the Ascaris lumbricoides (an 
iutcstinal worm) is sixty-fosr millions in the mature female. The 
».\ a may be discharged by millions, and the most of them in large 
cities may be carried into streams of water. An extremely small 
proportion is ever liable to be again introduced into the alimentary 
t-mal of the species of animal that can afford it an appropriate 
habitat. — Leciurts oji the Invertebrate Animals. 

Xo single point of a tape-worm can develop a head and form a 
T" w indindual ; the transverse fission relates only to the dissemin- 
••'':"n of the fertile ova, from Mhich alone Tienire are developed. 
Tlie hypothesis of equivocal generation has been deemed to apply 
More strongly to the appearance of intestinal parasites in animal 
l^nlios than to the origin of animalcules in infusions. But if a tape- 
^orm might be organized from a fortuitous concourse of organic 
j-«rii-k-s, or by the^metamorphosis of an organic cell in the animal 
»l infests, why that immense comphcatiou and extent of the organ 
^'-f the production of normal fertile ova ? The countless ova of 
I'le Tu;uia, with their hard crusts or shells and tenacity of latent 
'■:'-•. are, doubtless, widely dispersed, and need only the accidental 
i.'itr.jduction into an appropriate nidus tor ulterior development. — 
^■iurts on £ntozua, pp. 5-i, 55. 

-^gassiz remarks, in reference to the mysterious appearance 
' Huimalcules in certain places : 

186 Natural Theology. [April, 

We need only to recollect how the Cercaria insinuates itself into 
the skin and the viscera of moUnsca, to understand how admission 
may be £:ained to the most inaccessible parts. Such beings occur 
even in the eye of many animals, especially fishes. As to the larger 
intestinal worms found in other animals, the mystery of their 
origin luis been entirely solved by recent researches. AH animals 
swallow with their food, and in the Avater they drink, numerous 
eggs of such parasites, any one of which, finding in the intestine 
of the animal favoi-able conditions, may be hatched. As respects 
the infusoria, we also know that most of them, the rotifera espe- 
cially, lay eggs. These eggs, which are extremely minute, (some of 
them only -j-aooo of an inch in diameter,). are scattered everywhere 
in great profusion, in water, in the air, in mist, and even in snow. 
Assiduous observers have not only seen the Q-g^ laid, but more- 
over have followed their development, and have seen the young 
animal forming in the ecrg, then escaping from it, increasing in 
size, and in its turn layiitg eggs. They have been able, in some 
instances, to follow them even to tlie fifth and sixth generation. 
This being the case, it is much more rational to suppose that the 
infusoria are products of like germs, than to assign to them a spon- 
taneous origin altogether incompatible with what we know of 
organic development ; no substantial difticulties to the axiom, 
" omne vivum ex ovo,''^ any longer exist. — Principles of Zoology^ 
pp. 171-173. 

Professor Schulze, of Berlin, tried for about two months 
exjjeriments in reference to spontaneous generation, using the 
greatest precaution to exclude the ova from the air, which he 
passed througli sulphuric acid ; but he could not discern ^vith 
the microscope tlie slightest trace of infusoria or confervae or of 
mould. M. Pasteur has very recently experimented vrith great 
care upon the same subject, and concludes that ger?ns susjycndcd 
in the air are the .exclusive origin, and the first and necessary 
condition of life in ii fusions, iajnitrescihlehodics, and in liquids 
cajpdble of undergoing fermentation. In the face of such facts 
as these, one must have strong prejudice indeed in favor of a 
theory to maintain the doctriiie of sjwntaneous generationf 

* In Silliman's Journal of Science, July, 1SG2, is an article on spontaneous gen- 
eration, by Professor "Wyman, who thus sums up the results of his experiments : 
" The result of the experiments liere described is, that the boiled solutions of 
organic matter made use of, exposed only to air which has passed tlu-ough tubes 
heated to redness, or inclosed with air in hermetically sealed vessels and exposed 
to boiling water, became the seat of infusorial life." Now the most obvious answer 
to this supposed proof of spontaneous generation is the probability that the ova or 
spores were not destro.vcd by the lieating processes. How tenacious of life the ova 
and spores may be we are unable to say ; but Humboldt remarks, in reference to 
certain animalcules : " They have been seen to come to life from a state of appar- 

IjjjjSJ Natural Theology. 187 

According to Kirby and Spence, there are four hundred thou- 
KinJ f pedes of insects. xVU these species must have had a sepa- 
rate origin, for their habits and instincts are difierent, and the 
tlii.tinction in their species is of course founded on the fact, in 
part at least, that they do not intermix. We know nothing of 
I ho perpetuity of hybrid insects, if indeed such beings have an 
ixistence. How shall we develop from dead matter by means 
cf electricity, or any other natural force, these four hundred 
thousand species? The combinations of matter in all these 
cu.-es nnist have been difierent. There must have been in each 
case the designing mind which formed the species and determ- 
ined the law of its reproduction. Should we grant that in the 
cartli's primitive history the forces of nature were more power- 
ful than they are now, the atheist would gain nothing by the 
concession ; for, unless some connection can be shown between 
the quantity of natural forces and organic life, their increase is 
of no avail. AVe know that too great a quantity of electricity 
will destroy animal life, but it has never been known to bring 
the dead to life. Xo natural philosopher cafi produce life^ 
combine his forces as he will. It is the prerogative of God 
alone to do this. Cuvier says : 

Life exercising upon the elements which at every instant form 
part of the living body, and upon those which it attracts to it, an 
action contrary to that whicli would Be produced without it by. the 
usual cheuucal affinities, it is inconsistent to suppose that it can 
itself be produced by these affinities. 

The next step in the atheistic theory is to develop the low 
organizations formed by spontaneous generation into beings of 
a higher order ; to develop fish into reptiles, reptiles into 
Ijirds, birds into mammalia, and apes into men! Lamarck, a 
French naturalist, advanced a theory of development accord- 
ing to which an animal's wants, and efforts to satisfy these 
^vants, with its varying conditions, produce new organs and ele- 
vate its conditions. The author of the '•' Yestiges " admits that 

*"t death, after being dried for twenty-eight days in a vacuum -svith clilorid',' of lime 
*ad Fulj.luiric acid, and after being exposed to a heat of 248 deg." — Cosmot!, vol. i, 
P- 3i»A. It is impossible for Prof. provo the entire destruction of germs 
^J heating and boiling, and we presume that his infusoria propagate their species, 
• hull would be strong proof against their having been formed spontaneously. The 
*" I'ilioLs of matter used by Prof. Wyman were organic, so that, if wo granted tho 
""I'posed civses of spontaneous generation, it would furnish no proof that matter in 
•n inorganic state, its natural condition, could give rise to life. 

188 Natural' Theology. [April, 

this tlieorj is insufficient to exj)lain the phenomena of organic 
nature, and he proposes the theory oi jyrotraded gestation as 
the means of elevating an animal from a lower to a higher 
order. In answering this theory, that we may not be imposed 
upon by words, let us first inquire, AVhat is meant by develop- 
ment ? To develo]) is simply to loifold, to reveal tvhat lay con- 
cealed; just. as the butterfly may be regarded as a developed 
caterpillar, which, according to Swammerdam and some other 
natm-alists, contains the germs of the wings of the futm-e but- 
terfly. Kow the theory of development obviously presupposes 
that nearly (if man be an exception) the whole animal creation 
is ^indeveloped. Fish are undeveloped reptiles, reptiles unde- 
veloped birds and mammalia, and apes undeveloped men ! 
One ape, or a small number of them at most, gave birth to the 
human race. What has retarded the development of all these 
animals ? "We know from experience that the tadpole, the off- 
spring of the frog, becomes a frog, and that the ovum of the 
butterfly, after having passed through its metaiuorphosis, 
becomes a butterfly ; the off"spring rises no higher than the par- 
ent, and we know of no case where it does rise higher. If the 
lower orders of creation are not the higher ones undeveloped, 
if they had not the germ of humanity concealed in them, they 
could never rise to humanity. If they have it concealed, we 
are driven to the monstrous conclusion that in almost every 
case it is undeveloped. 

According to the " Yestiges," in order to develop a higher 
■animal from a lower one, nothing more is necessary than to 
pi'otract the period of gestation. Xow it is obdous that this 
requires the period of gestation in man (on the supposition that 
lie is the most highly developed animal) to be longer than in 
any other animaL But the facts contradict the theory ; the 
period of gestation in the elephant is twenty-three months, in the 
horse eleven months, in the dromedary twelve, while in the rab- 
bit it is only thirty or forty days. In all the quadrumana, as far as 
has been ascertained, it is seven months.* According to the devel- 
opment theory, the period of gestation in the ape, protracted 
to nitie months, produced the human being. jS^ow, according 
to all just principles of reasoning on that hj-pothesis, (and the 
theory asserts that the fetal brain passes through the condition 

* Martin's Man and ilonkoys, p. 175. 

ISOS.l Natural Theology. 189 

t.f nn ape's brain before it becomes that of man,) the human 
ItcJDg in the seventh month of fetal development should be 
ii!i iipo. Yet have we ever heard of seven months' children 
Ix'iiig apes? And should not Kepler, who was a seven 
nil 'lit lis' child, have been an ape instead of being the greatest 
uf astronomers ? 

The advocates of the development hypothesis appeal to the 
•' f^tony science " in confirmation of their theory ; to the " stony 
K-icuce" they shall go, for we are assured that tliat venerable 
tribunal will give judgment against them. Our first witnesses 
ure the placoid fishes, which stand high in the scale of organi- 
zation, and yet are found in one of the earliest formations, the 
uj'pcr Silurian. All the animals of the Silurian period " must 
Ir.ive been to a certain extent cotemporaneous ; they exhibit 
?oine instances of very imperfect and some of the most perfect 
tlevclopment of the great kingdom of nature to which they 
Mong."* According to. the development hypothesis all of 
tliera ought to have been of low organization. These animals, 
in respect to development, held a close analogy to the present 
pvftem of nature, highly organized and lowly oiganized beings 
existing cotemporaneously. We have also in the Silurian 
strata shells of a " carnivorous (iriimal like the cuttle-fish, a 
cii-ature of high and complicated organization among the 
irivcrtebrata, and which seems to have been introduced among 
the very earliest of the species intended to people the primeval 
M'iis." The trilobites, one of the earliest forms of organic life, 
had eyes as perfect as those of any crustacean now living. To 
tliesc witnesses we may add the " asterolepis " of Hugh Miller, 
i'"inid in the old red sandstone, belonging to a class of fish of 
llie highest order that has ever been called into existence, 
'i iie>c fish appear to have varied in length from five to twenty 
or twenty-five feet. Leaving the lower strata and traveling 
upward, we have in the new red sandstone of the Connecticut 
valley, to say nothing of the animals in the coal formation, 
f'^jtprints of various animals. Thirty of these are believed to be 
tho>c of birds, four of lizards, two chelonians, and six of batra- 
t'bians. Some of these birds had feet four times as large as the 
<^'^trieh. Speaking of tlie large saurians in the Permian or 
Triassic formation, Lyell remarks : 

* Ansted's Ancieut World, p. 40. 

100 Natural Theology. • [April, 

This family of reptiles is allied to the living monitor, and its 
appearance in a primary or paleozoic formation, observes Mr. Owen, 
is opposed to the doctrine of progressive development of reptiles 
from tish, or from simple to more complex forms ; for if they 
existed at the present day, these monitors would take rank at the 
head of the Lacertian order. — Manual of Geology^ p. 306. 

Birds and mammalia, though thej may be mimerous, are to 
but a small extent buried in deposits, and their absence from 
any formation is by no means a proof that they had no exist- 
ence when that formation was made. The domain of the 
higher orders of animals is by geological discoveries continually 
extending downvi'ard, so that no geologist can assign them def- 
inite limits in the past history of the organic world. To build a 
theory on very partial knowledge is the bane of true science. 

Yery recently Mr. Darwin put forth a theory on the " Origin 
of Species," in which the ground is taken that species are vari- 
able, and that all the forms of organic life may have sprung 
from a few individuals at most. He sajs : 

I believe that animals have descended from at most only four or 
five progenitors, and plants front an e(]ual or lesser number, . . . 
I»should infer from analogy that probably all the organic beings 
which have ever lived on the earth have descended from some one 
primordial form, into which life was first breathed. 

On this theory, that beautiful adaptation of means to ends, 
those exquisite contrivances that on every side strike the eye 
and fill us \d\h. wonder and admiration, surpassing the highest 
works of human art, were not thus formed by a creative hand, 
but are merely the result of a long scries of improvements in 
nature hei-solf, which, like man, ever carries forward her works 
to perfection, selecting the good and casting the bad away. In 
Mr. Darwin's theory, '•' jS'atural Selection " is the great creative 
and transforming power of organic nature. He* tells us that, 

Owing to tlic struggle for life, any variation, however slight, 
and from whatever cause proceeding, if it be in any degree profit- 
able to an individual of any species, in its infinitely complex rela- 
tions to other organic beings and to external nature, will tend to 
the preservation of that individual, and will generally be inherited 
by its oflspring. The ollspring, also, will thus have a better chance 
of survi^^ng; for, of the many individuals of any species which are 
periodically born, but a small number can survive. I have called 
this prLncijile, 1>y Avhicli each slight variation, if useful, is preserved, 
by the term of Natural Selection, hi order to mark its relation to 
man's power of selection. 

j^03J Natural Theology. 191 

It matters not how complex the organs may be, however 
ft ri king the contrivances, natural selection can effect them. 
This is the magician's wand that relieves him of everv difficulty 
and brings about every result. Mr. Darwin says : 

To suppose that the eye, with all its inimitable contrivances for 
:i.liii-ting the focus to different distances, for admitting different 
:i!i"iounts" of light, and for the correction of splierical and chromatic 
:iK.-rration, could have been formed by natui-al selection, seems, I 
iVioIy confess, absurd in the highest possible degree. Yet reason 
loli.s ine, thaf if numerous gradations from a perfect and complex 
oye to one very imperfect and simple, each grade being useful to 
its possessor, can be shown to exist ; if, further, the eye does vary 
ever so sliglitly, and the variation be inherited, which is certainly Uie 
case ; and if any variation or modification in the organ be ever 
un-lul to an animal under changing conditions of life, then the difli- 
nilty of believing that a perfect and complex eye could be formed 
liy natural selection, though insuperable by our imagination, can 
hardly be considered real. — P. 167. 

Again he tells ns : " The belief that an organ so perfect as 
the eye could have been formed by natural selection, is more 
\\v\\\ enough to stagger any one." Yet Mr. Darwin resolutely 
k'lieves it, and censures those as prejudiced who have not the 
Fame marvelous faith. Surely he can call no Christian credu- 
l"us after this, for the Bible makes no such heavy demand 
ui>on our faith as this theory does. We might entitle Mr. Dar- 
win's book, " Creation made Easy." The only difference 
k'tween his theory and the Metamorphoses of Ovid is that Mr. 
Darwin's theory requires a long time for transmutations, while 
in the poet they are sudden. Mr. Darwin does not tell us 
■^vhat was the form of the primordial being from which all 
"•hers have been derived. It appears, however, to have been 
the simplest kind of living being, blind, deaf, and dumb ; the 
ligbt surrounded it, but there was no eye to receive it ; sounds 
viiirated, but there was no ear to receive tliem ; it was left by 
Its Maker to do the best it could, and either to perish or wait 
f'-T improvement. 

Ihit it may be asked, What is the object of such an h}-pothe- 
'>'■■'< And the evident answer is. To avoid the interposition of 
^Jvine power in the creation of the various species of living 
'^■'t'gs. He rejects the creation of each species becatise it is 
^nraculous. In this respect he resembles the rationalist, who 
f'»r tlie same reason rejects the miracles of Christ ; with this dif- 

192 Natural Theology. [April, 

ference, however, that if the rationalist believed in one miracle, 
he would probably believe in all of them. Mr. Darwin aifects 
to believe in one act of creation and rejects all the rest. But 
if the Almighty created a single being in the beginning, why 
should he not have made it perfect ? And why should he not 
have created more than one being? As the order of nature 
was interrupted, the amount of that interruption makes but lit- 
tle diflerence. 

\ Besides this, Mr, Darwin, like other philosopher's, is seeking 
after unity in nature. But may it not be just as absurd to seek 
this unity in creation as it is to search for the philosopher's stone ? 
H it probable that the sixty-two elements of modem chem- 
istry can be traced up to or resolved into one primal element ? 
That, indeed, would seem to be impossible, for variety _ could 
never spring from such unity. So far from this being the case, 
we have reason to believe that chemical science will increase 
the number of smiple elements in the future as it has done in 
the past. Gravitation, chemical affinity, electrical and magnetic 
attraction, may all be the modificatioi-ts of one law; but these 
modifications must be as old as matter itself, and they must liave 
been made by the Creator. "When we have ascribed the various 
races of men to one primitive pair, assigned one separate origin 
to each species of plants and animals, and have found a plan in 
creation, we have perhaps sought far enough for unity in nature. 
Mr. Darwin rejects with contempt tlie idea oi^^lan in crea- 
tion. To hira, similarity of plan is a proof that all animals are 
modificntions of a primitive being. On the hj-pothesis that 
nature is the ])roduct of a Supreme Intelligence, we should 
expect with confidence to see a plan in the organic world, and 
its absence would strongly militate against the doctrine of a 
creative intelligence. The construction of the organic world 
npon a plan, variously modified to meet the changing condi- 
tions of organic beings in different periods of the globe's his- 
tory, and in diiferent states in the same period, indicates the 
highest wisdom. Xor is this plan arbitrary ; for what other 
plan of organic structure would be so suitable ? The arrange- 
ment of the organs of sense, of locomotion, in short, the whole 
etructure, is admirably adapted to the convenience of the animal 
and to give it symmetry. "We ourselves work npon a plan. • 
Our houses, ships, steamboats, are all btdlt upon a plan. 

IS03.] JVatural Theology. 193 

\\\ proof of the great changes to which organic beings are 
Fiilgtrt, Mr. Darwin brings forward a large number of reniark- 
nhlo variations in domestic fowls, especially pigeons. But these 
cliaiiges take place in the hands of man, under domestic culture ; 
wliftlicr such varieties would be produced in a wild state is the 
(ji!i>tion to be determined. We certainly know of no such 
rli:wiges in wild animals, and even those variations that occur 
\\\ domestic animals have their limits. We have not a particle 
of proof that pigeons could be changed into any other fowl, or 
into a quadruped. ' Were these varieties of the tame pigeon, to 
wliich Mr. Darwin refers, turned out into a wild state, they 
would most probably revert to the original type, to which all 
vftrictics have a strong tendency. 

Yet even domesticated animals do not all undergo great 
change. Camels have been used in Asia and in Africa from 
tlio earliest times. We have of them but two species ; they 
have suffered but little change. Among the animals embalmed 
l-y the ancient Egyptians were the bull, dog, and cat. Mum- 
mies of these animals, embalmed three thousand years ago, 
^Vl•re brought to Paris under Xapoleon, and examined by 
the French naturalists : 

Now such were the conformity ^f the whole of these species to 
those now living, that there was no more ditVerence, says Cuvier, 
net ween them than between the human munfniies and the em- 
hahneJ bodies of men of the present day. Yet some of these ani- 
nials liave since that period been transferred by man to almost 
tvcry climate, and forced to accommodate tl)cir habits to the great- 
<^l Variety of circumstances. Tlie cat, for example, has been car- 
ri.<l over the whole earth, and within the Inst three centuries has 
^-•'11 naturalized in every part of the New World, from the cold 
fvjrions of Canada to the tropical plains of Guiana, yet it has 
»cnrcely underfrone any ])crceptible mutation, and it is still the 
H'lK- animal wjiich was held sacred by the Egyptians. Of the ox, 
'iii'loubtedly, there are very many distinct races: but the IjulKVpis, 
^'ijoli wa-i led in solemn procession by the Eiryjitian priests, did not 
'htK-r Irum some of tliose now living.— Zye^/'^- rriin.GeoL, p. 5G4. 

^'o one ?pecies of animal has, perhaps, passed through more 
c.ia!iges, and been affected more in his transmigrations, than 
^''C dog, the faithful companion of man. Y'et " in all the 
^"•■'ricties of the dog," says Cuvier, " the relation of the bcfnes \vith 
♦■=*'-h othei- remains essentially the same ; the form of the teeth 
li'-vtr changes in any perceptible degree, except that, in some 

194: Natural Theology. [April, 

individuals, one additional false grinder occasionally appears, 
Bometimes on tlie one side, sometimes on the other,"^ Tlierc 
is indeed a stability and permanency in species which all tlie 
hostile influences of climate, food, and the art of man cannot 
destroy. And the entire history of the organic world furnishes 
us with not a single instance of the transmutation, of the devel- 
opment of an animal of a lower into one of a higher organization. 

One of the strongest proofs of the original reality and per- 
manency of species is furnished by the sterility of hybrids. 
"Were hybrids fruitful, it would be impossible to classify either 
the animal or vegetable kingdom. And generally, the fertility 
of the offspriog is the proof that the parents are of the same 
species. Mr. Darwin discusses at considerable length the ques- 
tion of the sterility of hybrids, and endeavors to show that this 
sterility does not always exist, and that consequently it is not 
an insuperable objection to his theory of transmutation. But 
whatever modi-fication we may have to make to the statement, 
Hyhrids are sterile ! its essential truth remains unshaken. It 
is the art of man that brings about a union that gives rise to 
hybrid animals, for the opposite sexes of different species have 
an aversion to union. 

The most palpable objection to Mr. Darwin's theory of trans- 
mutation is the fact of the classification of plants and animals. 
If all the forms of^'organic life were natural modifications of a 
single being, produced in a long series of ages, the gradations 
should be insensible. Why does not this insensible gradation 
exist in nature? What has become of all the intermediate 
forms ? 

On Mr. Darwin's theory, what our eyes behold are nature's 
best productions, which have withstood the storms and conflicts 
of the past ages; while the imperfect beings lie wrecked all 
over tlie illimitable abyss, 

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
In TaUambrosa. 

But is it not singular that none of these imperfect beings 
have been driven upon our shores by some favorable wind? 
However \-iolent the conflict of life may have been, some should 
have survived. 

But let us ask the geologist, whose ofiice it is to explore the 
* LyeU'a Prim. Geol., p. 562. 

jji;3.] Natural Theology. 195 

pMus of the past %vorlcl, Avliether lie knows anything of these 
irnnerfcct products of nature. His answer is in the words of 
I \ oil : " In whatever direction we pursue our researches, 
uhcth'er in time or space, we discover everywhere the clear 
i.nofs of a Creative Intelligence, and of his foresight, ^dsdom, 
i:ul power." The geologists tell us that they, have examined 
Ihc organic remains of miles of the globe's crust, from the trilo- 
bilcvs ol' the Silurian system, one of the earhest forms of organic 
life, to the mastodons of the drift period, and that divine wis- 
iloia shines through them all. 

Mr. Dar^-in supposes that the eye was formed by a long 
K-ries of improvements ; and yet the eyes of the trilobite were 
a<^ perfect as those of any living being. Imperfect eyes are to 
U luuud neither in the present nor past organic world. They 
, \i.-t in the imagination' of our author only. Thousands of 
u-:irs ago, we know that the eyes of man and many other 
kiiimals were as perfect as they are now. The eye under- 
pvis no change; and even if it did, the improbability that 
all these changes would conspire to form the perfect eye 
» as millions to one. The same holds true of the ear, the 
land, and of all the other exquisitely contrived parts of the 
husnan frame. 

The geologists are almost unanimous in declaring that the 
fcnitnals of the present world could not be derived from those 
t'f the lower strata. They find in the past world no transmu- 
tation of species. Mr. Darwin admits that all the most emi- 
r.ciit paleontolog-ists, namely, Cuvier, Owen, Agassiz, Barrande, 
I'alconer, E. Forbes, etc., and aU our greatest geologists, as 
I-}ell, Murehison, Sedgwick, etc., have unanimously, often 
^ollemently, maintained the immutability of species. " I feel," 
khvb he, " how rash it is to differ from these great authorities, 
to whom with others we owe all our knowledge." He thinks, 
however, that Lyell now hesitates in his opinion. 

ilr. Darwin's theory demands that all the earliest organic 
hi'iiigs perished without leaving a trace behind. The fossil 
J^-uiains of the Silurian system contradict his theory. Hence 
tJii-s could not be the earliest formation. Geologists have not 
Wn able to find animals in a state of transition from one 
»i"'cies to another, and he, therefore, contends that the geolog- 
ical record is imperfect. He grants, however, that few geolo- 

196 Natural Theology. [April, 

gists will ^admit that this record is as imperfect as his theory 

But in order to get a clear view of the absurdity of the Dar- 
winian theory, let us see how it proceeds in a single case, that 
of the goose. Mr. Darwin supposes that this fowl once had 
four legs {aiuer quach'itpes !) Xow as all changes in natm-e. 
according to Mr. Darwin, are slow, there was a time when the 
fore-feet could not he used to advantage either as feet or wings, 
and this unfavorable position in the struggle for life with ani- 
mals of the same class possessing more advantages, would have 
insured its destruction before it became a winged biped. It is 
amusing to see Mr. Darwin gravely assert that the flying squirrel 
is in a state of transition to a winged animal. There is not 
the slightest indication of the fore-feet becoming wings. There 
are simply phalanges on both sides of the animal, connecting 
the fore and hind feet. Tliis is likewise true of the colugo and 
other flying quadrupeds. 

iiEr. Darwin ransacks the whole creation to find arguments 
in support of liis tlieory, every one of which he could easily 
answer, and to find instances that seem to clash with design in 
creation. He cites the case of upland geese with webbed feet, 
which rarely go into the waterT-^oodpeckeijs in the plains of 
La Plata, where not a tree grows. AYe see here no great difii- 
culty ; for may not beings occasionally get out of the sphere 
for which they were created, just as the Arabian locust is some- 
times tliro\\'n into Ilyde Park, and as aerolites are hurled from 
their orbits upon the earth ? 

It must, however, be admitted that Islw Darwin's theory 
explains some facts ; and what hypothesis will not do that \ 
But it is just as far from explaining the phenomena of organic 
nature as is the Ptolemaic system from explaining the facts of 
astronomy. Xor do we think that there is any probability that 
it ever will be accepted by the scientific world as a satisfactory 
ex-position of the phenomena of the animal and vegetable king- 
doms. The author of the "Yestiges" repudiates Lamarck's 
h}-pothesis; Mr. Darwin rejects that of the "Yestiges," and his 
ovm will doubtless share the same fixte. 

That the human race is of recent origin is one of the most 
firmly established facts. The earth's crust, to a depth of several 
miles, has been more or less examined by .the geologist. The 

l^CZ.] Natural Theology. 197 

jitrriial forces have thrown up the strata that would otherwise 
havr remained inaccessible, enabling liini to read with com- 
parative ease the nnmcrous pages thus unfolded. Yet amono- 
tlif many fossils of the animals of the past history of our planet, 
r-v-ils scattered throughout its miles of strata, no remains of man 
.r <.f any of his works have' been found, except in the most 
n-o-nt formations. Had man existed during the deposition of 
the various strata in which no memorial of his existence has 
U'xn found, it would be strange that he left no trace of that 
^\^^tence, no carved stone or wood, no footprints, no ruins of 
uties, not a single bone or impression. Xo animal is so active 
A* man ; none ventm-es out as he does upon the deep ; none is 
>o likely to leave traces of his existence. Some animals, on 
.".'^•tmnt of their constitution, are confined to certain localities, 
^^!.i!c man is strictly a cosmopolite. Let us, however, for the 
n.y of the argument, suppose that man did exist during one 
<'f the older formations, say the Oolitic, though by no means 
iV ..Idest, cotemporary with its great saurians, yet owing to 
^'••0 fewness of his numbers, and the small extent of his nifgra- 
:<-'iiS that no geologist has yet been so fortunate as to nieet 
'•"til his remains : we would indeed expect, with a considerable 
"J«-::rec of confidence, to find vestiges of his existence in the 
••'■•^t higher formation, the Wealden ; for during the lapse of 
'■^^^n\ years he must have spread extensively over the earth. 
J^n^ supposing, what is extremely improbable, that he existed 
<.unng all these stages, where we find no remains of him, he 
^^"uld certainly be found in the Cretaceous formation. Such, 
• "^^-ever, is not the case ; for we must travel upward through 
■ -"v deposits before we reach his remains. Bv such a couSe 
; * reasoning we can show the impossibility of man's having 
^^•-n lung upon the globe, to say nothing of tlie impossibilitv ol" 
-'Miaving been eternal. The argument of the old divines, 
--»t It i.s impossible for a contrived being to be eternal, though 
-'■^•''I'lut Its force, is now no longer necessary. Geology says 
'''iiiig about its abstract possibility, but she savs emphaVicallv. 
^'■''\]-^ not eternal ' 

. ^ 'll"n the last few years, however, large quantities of flint 
;./^i'-^^'"^onts, worked by the hand of man,^have been found in 

^'\nT • '^ *^'° ^'^^^^'^ ^^ ^^'^ Somnie, in France, which Avould 
'» '-» indicate that man's origin was not quite so recent as 
' *'^''ni Sehies, Vol. XV.-13 

198 Natural Theology. [April^ 

had been supposed. But it is impossible to calculate with any 
degree of certainty the number of years that elapsed since the 
drift period. It is true that some of the animals of that period, 
as the mastodon and the megatherium, have become extinct, 
although we have no proof that these animals were cotempo- 
rary with man. 

Prof. n. D. Eogers, who has examined these flints in the drift, 
remarks in reference to their age : 

The diluvium of geologists has, since the days of the illustrious 
Cuvier, been always looked upon as something very ancient, sim- 
ply because he and his successoi's, finding it replete with the 
remains of hui,^e land animals no longer livuig, never succeeded in 
detecting in it a solitary bone or tooth of a human being, nor 
indeed anything indicative of man's existence; but now that 
things indicative of man liave been found, it is surely illogical, and 
a beg_i,niig of the \ery question itself, to impute an age incompati- 
ble with the fact of his then existing. I Avould repeat, then, that a 
specially remote age is not attributable to the flint-carWng men of 
the diluvium, simply because it is the diluvium or mammoth- 
embedding gravel which contains them. If their association with 
these extinct mammals does intimate a long pre-historic antiquity, 
the evidences of this are to be sought in some of the other attend- 
ant phenomena. The age, therefore, of the diluvium, which 
incloses the remains of the extinct mammalian animals, n^ust now 
be viewed as doubly uncertain, doubtful from the imcertaiuty of 
its coim-idence with the age of the flint implements ; and, agaiu, 
doubtful even if this coincidence were established, from the absence 
of any link of coimection between those earliest traces of man and 
his historic afjes. In conclusion, then, of the Avhole inquiry, con- 
densing into one expression my answer to the genei'al question, 
whether a remote ])re-histonc antiquity for the human race has 
been estaMisluM] from the recent specimens of man's handiwork in 
the so-called dihivium, 1 maintaui it is not proven ; by no means 
asserting that it can be disproved, but insisting simply that it 
remains not proven. 

Paleontologists distinguish three ages of man in Europe : the 
age of stone, the age of bronze, and the age of iron, so called 
from the material of whicli implements were made during these 
respective periods. At the place where the Tiniere empties 
into the Geneva lake in Switzerland is formed a cone of deposit; 
a railway excavation made throtigh this cone to the depth ot 
nearly twenty-three feet lays open the strata containing imple- 
ments used by man in dillercnt periods of his existence. 3lr. 
Morlot has calculated the time necessary for the formation ot 

1SC3.1 Natural Theology. . 199 

Uie whole of this cone, and found it to be from seventy-four to 
one hundred and ten centuries.^ Calculations of this kind, 
ulihough not to be relied upon as fixing with any accuracy the 
BSitiquity of man, are valuable as showing his very recent origin, 
Bit event of a few thousand years ago. • 

Now wc have in the introduction of man upon our planet the 
»«n>ngcst proof of the existence of an intelligent and powei-ful 
iK-ity. The atheist cannot argue that man is eternal ; and it is 
im[»o?tible to develop him from the lower animals. He stands 
jJoiie, distinguished from the brute creation by bearing the image 
of his ]\[aker — a moral and intellectual image — and reflecting the 
glory of the divine character. We point the atheist not to the 
ptars, but to man, as being the noblest visible monument that 
ilic Creator has ever erected of his existence, power, and wis- 

As it is from the ape tribe that the atheist derives the most 
plorious of the creation of God, let us take a look at them, and 
K-o whether we can recognize in these hairy creatures our dis- 
tin;j;ui.shed progenitors. Xow the first thing that strikes us is 
tiiiit they are all dumb, and cannot walk erect. This surely 
''^'ks as if they could not be om- ancestors. And the more we 
ox.iinine them, the more striking docs their difierence from us 
ij'i'oar. Of all the ape tribe, the chimpanzee approaches near- 
*>-t man. The gorilla, a large species of ape, brought to light 
& few years ago, is placed by Prof Owen next to man. St. 
"ilaire, Duvernoy, and Wyman place the gorilla below the 
♦"Jiiinpanzee in the scale of organization, and in this we think 
^'■'-t naturalists will agree with them. In the Smithsonian 
'--titution is a cast of the head of a gorilla from the Imperial 
iiuseuin of Vienna ; likewise two casts of skulls of the same 
^•nmul. Comparing these heads with the head of the chim- 
}'.inzee, we are led irresistibly to place the latter next to man. 

"t'of the most striking peculiarities in the head of the gorilla, 
^ llic crest on the skull extending from the front to the back of 
^■'^- head, with deep cavities on each side. The principal dif- 
.'•rrueos between the chimpanzee and man arc the following : 

-»he existence of four hands instead of two, the inability to 
*^iid erect, consequent on the structure of a skeleton adapted 


10 com- 

" •*" ^rl>oreal life, the excessive length of the arms, tl 

^■■^- oil intpresting paper on this subject in the Smithsonian Report for 1860. 

200 Natural Theology. [April, 

parati'-ely sliort and permanentlj flexed legs, tlie protruding 
face, the position of the occipital condyles in the posterior third 
of the base of the skull, and the consequent preponderance of 
the head forward," the largely developed canine teeth, which, 
whon the mouth is shut, do not strike against but overpass 
each other, and the elongated pelvis. The hand is a rude imi- 
tation of the human organ. The thumb is short and not oppos- 
able to the "Sngers. Xor does tlie hand possess the feeling of 
touch like that of man. In many respects the muscles likewise 
differ from those of man. To these differences between the 
chimpanzee and man we must add the absence of the divine 
gift of reason, that discursive power of the human intellect that 
generalizes universal nature, analyzes the soil, measures the. 
distances of planets, and weighs their masses. But there is 
nothing in wliich man is so unlike the highest developed ape 
as in. the pa=session of a moral nature, the feeling of moral 
obligation. Man feels too that he has a connection with a 
higher power, and with an invisible w^orld. How shall all these 
faculties be developed from the brutish ape ? We doubt, very 
much that the ape has as much sagacity as the dog. In pro- 
portion as other animals approach inan in physical structure, 
we do not see that they approximate him in intellect. Xor 
must we omit the important fact, that while the ape tribe is 
confiued to a tropical zone, and dies soon after he leaves it, man 
has a constitution ada[>ted to every clime. 

1^0 w the question arises, How does Mr. Darwin's theory of 
natural selection apply to the development of man from the 
ape ? ^tr. Darwin lias made no attempt to apply it ; it docs 
not suit at all. Where are the intermediate forms between the 
chimpanzee and man ? Wliat could have destroyed these 
intermediate fbrms I Tlioy must have, in most respects, pos- 
sessed advantages over tlio ape tribe; and although their position 
was inferior to higher orders — the races of man in his present 
development — they cnild as well have existed cotemporaneously 
with him as apes now d..., or as inferior races of men alongside 
of superior ones. 

We cannot leave tliis i>art of our subject without noticing a 
human skull and part ».>f a skeleton tliat were discovered in 
1857 in a cave between Dii-^aeldorf and Elberfeld. This skull 
has been thought to indicate a nearer approach to that of the 

ISCo.] . Natural Theology. 201 

chimpanzee than is presented in the skulls of living human 
rnccs. This skull has a supraciliary ridge which is found in 
the gorilla and chimpanzee, but not in the orang-outang. 
Tlio London Geologist remarks on this skull that it has 

A very fair development of brain, aud iu the general shape of the 
^kull (the supraoihary ridge apartj' we find notliing which approxi- 
iintes to the gorilla ; no interparietal crest, obliterating the sagittal 
s'ltures, extends along the head; none of the other characters that 
fu prominently ditfereatiate the human from the simian sub-king- 
«{'.)iu are to be found iu this ancient skull. It is not cerebraUy 
iuforior to the Papuan or negro races,'' 

If this is a fair specimen of the skulls of the inliabitants of 
Europe at the early period to which it belongs, it is strange we 
have no other skulls with this supraciliary ridge, either living 
or fossil. Xor do we see any good reason to believe that civil- 
ization develops the skull and brain. In the earliest age of 
man in Europe, the age of- stone, the skull was round: no 
opi)roach to that of the ape. From a cursory examination of 
tlic skulls in the Smithsonian Institution, we cannot perceive 
any development of skull produced by civilization, ^or is it 
true that the brain of the negro is of smalb capacity. Sir Will- 
iam Hamilton and Prof. Tiedmaim have incontrovertibly estab- 
i;-diod the fact tliat the brain of tlie negro is not less than that 
of the European, and greatly larger than Hindoo, Geylonese, 
and sundry other Asiatic brains. AVhile living Cjuadrumana 
arc separated 'from man by such a wide interval, it is impossi- 
ble to fill up the gap by fossil forms. A few years ago the 
f^'-sil remains of a quadrumanous animal, dryopithecus, was 
'• -inid in the upper Miocene formation. From the two branches 
«^'f the lower jaw and the humerus, Lyell declared that it " came 
iieurer to man than any quadrumanous species living or fossil 
Urfure known to geologists." To this Prof. Owen replies that 
"ie statement is " without the support of any adequate fiict, 
*iid ill contravention of most of those to be deduced from 
Mr. Lartet's figures of the fossils." 

A hat there should have been, to a certain extent, progress in 
ihe creation of God, the formation of the highest being, man, 
^'^■"t, coincides better with our views of the divine proceeding 
"»im would the creation of the lower animals after man. The 
^iiriuus orders of animated existence were introduced at that 
r^Uie when the earth suited their respective conditions. The 

202 Natural Theology. ' [April, 

great object of the Deity, as far as v^q can learn it from the 
plan of creation, was the introduction of man upon our planet. 

The fundamental argument for the existence of an intelligent 
Creator is that design must have had a designer, or, to express 
it more philosophically, that the adaptation of means to a cer- 
tain end, or conspiring to pro(^ice certain results, implies design. 
For design and designer are as much correlative terms as effect 
and cause. So that the only possible question is, whether there 
is design in nature. Now it is not possible for us to reason 
upon this subject, and scarcely upon any other, without refer- 
ence to ourselves. The idea of a connection between effect 
and cause has been most probably derived from our own experi- 
ence and consciousness. TVe are conscious of a connection 
between our own volitions and acts ; we know that we 
certain things, and we are led immediately to the truth that 
there is a cause of the great phenomena of nature. We know 
that there must be a cause of planetary motion ; that if a planet 
keep its orbit, there must be a cause for it ; that if a new being is 
introduced upon the eartli, there must be a cause for it. Hardly 
any one, we presume, will attack this principle, and the same 
course of reasoning will apply to the design in nature. "We are 
conscious of designing things, of adapting means to ends ; and wc 
also a.scribe design to other men in their works, although these 
works may far sm-pass anything that we ourselves can do. We 
indeed know from cx])erience, that if intelligence does not 
direct affairs, they almost invariably go wrong ; we know that 
it is not natural that every thing should turn out right. Con- 
fusion and apparent chance are evident all through mundane 
affairs. But in the midst of all this, we find animated nature 
bearing the most striking instances of order and harmony ; a 
wonderful relation of parts, of means to ends, that are beneficial. 

Furthermore, we not only ascribe design to men, but also to 
some of the lower animals ; to others, instinct. If a reasoning 
animal performs actions of a certain kind, we impute them to 
design. If another animal by instinct acts in a similar manner, 
is it not clear that there must still be design somewhere? if not 
in the animal, then in its Maker. This remark will apply to tlie 
bee's cell, constructed on the highest mathematical principles. 

The ear is formed with reference to sound; and the eye. 
implying a most profound knowledge of optics, is preciselv 


jiC3.] IS^'aiural Theology. 203 

^l.ntcl to the laws of light, varying in different animals to 
ruVtiieir condition. Can it be any more doubted that the eye 
«a!- l-.-med for ^-ision than that the telescope and microscope 
were l^.rmed to assist vision ? If there %vere but a fe%v instances 
..f apparent design in nature, we might think it haj^jpened so; 
I, -it the uniformin- of design forbids it. 

It i. sometim;s sneeringly said by the atheist, that our 
U-licf in God is the result of our ignorance ; that when we are 
tmablc to trace out the natural causes of things we fly to a 
IVitv; and that when the sciences sliall have reached a greater 
c'c-rr^e of perfection, and the relations of the universe shaU 
have been better understood, there will be no need of resortmg 
t., a Deity to explain the phenomena of nature. ^Now we 
admit that natural philosophy does in some cases remove the 
I>.-itv to a -reater distance from us, but does not dispense with 
1 i. a'rgncv' Eemove the fh-st cause as far back as we please, 
wc must'soon or later place him at the head of aU nature 
Whatever explanation may be given of the phenomena ot 
^/nre de-icm and contrivance will still remain. But it is 
lu-vertiielessVae that in the explanation of natural phenomena 
^.e have in manv cases reached an ultimatum, ^e know that 
il is necessary for vi.ion that an image of the object be iormed 
u,..n the retina of the eve. and we know that the eye is w-^nder- 
fJllv adapted to this purpose, sm-passing in perlection the be.t 
oi.tical instruments. Xo future discoveiw can change this .act ; 
it is complete in itself. The same remark wiU apply to the 
.-ur in its formation for hearing. The relation of the sexes 
iKrou-hout organized nature is the clearest indication of des^ 
t'.r the perpetuation of plants and animals. . 2^0 future dis- 
covery in anatomv or phvsiology can change it. The same is 
tnie of nearly all* other phenomena. Our belief, therefore, ot 
the existence'of a Supreme Iiitelligence is based upon positive 
Ir^owkJg.. The fact is, science has furnished the strongest 
Vr.^-.fs of the divine existence. The telescope has revealed to 
u^ innumerable worlds, while the microscope has disclosed to 
ui millions of sentient bein-s. Geology has augmented to an 
:--toni.hin- de-ree our knowledge of the past history of our 
I'lnnct. The anatomist has increased the number of mstances 
< 1 cx.iuisite and delicate contrivances in the organizaUon of our 

204: ■ St<;vens's Jlistory of 2feihodhm. [April, 

The Deity that the universe proclaims to us is not simply a 
power but a person. The mere existence of power or motion 
does not, perhaps, prove the existence of intelligence ; but 
where there is contrivance and design directing forces to bene- 
ficial ends, there must be strict personality. "We see no way 
of avoiding the conclusion. The acts of a mind prove the 
existence of a mind. Our minds are also a proof of the intelli- 
gence of the First Cause, for none but an intelligent Being could 
produce intelligence. That the Deity is not the object of our 
senses is not strange, since the most active powers of nature are 
the most concealed. Xothing but gross matter is the object of 
sense. Gravitation, chemical affinity, and terrestrial magnetism 
are invisible. Of man, 'niiml is the all-important part, but our 
senses take no cognizance of it ; our minds are mutually con- 
cealed from each other. The anatomist may dissect the human 
brain, and search the abode of intellect, but search in vain ; it 
perpetually eludes his grasp. The great intellects of Xewton 
and Milton were knovm to the world only by their works. In 
the same manner we are to judge of the existence and charac- 
ter of God. The existence, therefore, of aii Intelligent Cause 
is to be regarded as a truth of strict induction. If it is an 
h}i:»otliesis, it is one that is ahsolutchj necessary to explain the 
phenomena of nature. 

We may in a future article consider the moral natui'e in man, 
in its bearing upon Xatm-al Theology. 


The History of the Hd><fiuns Movement of the Eiyhteenth Century 
called JTetJiodism ; consldevcd in its different Denoraiuational 
Forms, and its liolations to Britisli aufl American Protestantism. 
By Ai?EL Stkvexs, LL.D. Vol. III. From the Death of Wesley 
to the Centenary Jubilee of ^Methodism. New York: Carlton 
& Porter. London: Alexander Ileyliu. 18G1. 

This third volume of Dr. Stevens's "History of Methodism" 
will lose much of its eliduring interest by being read out of con- 
nection with the two preceding volumes. The first of these 

1«-03.1 Stevens's Histoid of 3Iethodism. 205 

v.iiuMKs containing tlie Wesleyan reformation in its genninant 
tV'ttf, the second in its early development, and the third in its 
innfuring fruit, evidently must be read in tlieir order and 
o'liuection. Thus we can appreciate the irrepressible power 
ff the movement only when we know the resistance with which 
J; was doomed to conflict. This the first volume describes in 
!iu» variety of its forms and in the obstinacy of its character. 

The great reformation of the sixteenth century found the 
fuTcest resistance in the hierarchal usurpations which had 
ovtrshadowed Christendom. This stupendous system, which 
vas the growth of centuries, and the mightiest imposture ever 
{■nicticed on humanity, was the grand obstacle of the German 
movement. But the TTesleyan reformation grappled with 
anuther class of obstacles. The former reformation was a pro- 
tect against the frightful abuses of priestly power ; the latter 
V^ihist the practical ungodliness of the age. How rife and 
Jniihilbnn was this ungodliness, a thousand witnesses attest. 
It IkuI generated the deism of England, of which such minds 
^- Hobbes, Tindal, Collins, Shaftesbury, Chubb, and many of 
M;::i!lcr notoriety, were open advocates. This deism of the 
i'laiid was rapidly becoming the atheism of the continent, the 
r^li"nalisni of Germany, 

'Ihe crown of England, through several reigns, having used 
iu prerogatives to restore popery, accelerated the return of the 
ma.«*es to practical heathenism. . The profound torpor which 
J--^i'l paralyzed the national Church, was itself a fruitful source 
^ I L'eneral immorality. That th« minister o'f the altar should 
'••■:>*1 the mob to disperse earnest worshipers, was evincive that 
^-■••irtlcss formality had supplanted spiritual devotion, and that 
"•<-' establishment itself was among the most formidable obsta- 
* ••■' to the reformation. This profound spiritual apathy was 
^'•^y tlie legitimate source of the Arianism, Socinianism, and 
' 'litariuiiism so skillfully vindicated by the Clarkes, Priestleys, 
*'''"i >\ histons of their respective ages. 

1 his decline of truth and piety had reached its maximum, 
J^'icn the voices of the Lesleys, like the blast of a trumpet, 
ruke the slumber of ages, and introduced the era of spiritu- 

* llie ribald bm-lcsque and licentious humor," says our 
fc-Uii.jr, '« of such men as Swift and Sterne, sufficiently indicate 


Stevens's History of Methodism. [April 

the clerical taste of the daj ;" while the works of Dryden' 
which are not more bright with genius than darl^ with vice' 
fiirmsh a specimen of the demand then made bj polite society' 
Indeed, such was the national relish for the poisoning cup of 
infidehtj, that the works of Bolingbroke, Hume, and Gibbon 
had become the chosen \woks of large circles. 

The historian has also summoned witnesses from another 
class, who attest to a state of morals correspondino- to this 
Tu-tual rejection of revealed truth. We allude to th°e British 
Jissayists of the eigliteentli century, comprising Steele, Addi.on 
and Johnson. The Tatler of the first, the Spectator of 'the 
second, and the Eambler of the last, having the ope <.eneral 
aim to rebuke humorously or sarcastically the vices of the a^^e 
are attestations to their prevalence. Xot only had moral death 
pervaded the national Church, but it had also swept like a des- 
oating flood over the dissenters. Scores of thoughtful men 
blended their voices of sorrow in the assertion "that minodU- 
n^s was tU characteristic of the English natimr ^o voice 
gave utterance to this sonliment with more depth and tender- 
ness than "good Bishop Burnet," who tearfully declared that 
such was the waste of religion in the hearts and lives of men 
that there was ioartiil apprehension that it would die out of tlie 
world. ilns moral blight pervaded the whole period Irom "'the 
restoration," till I^Iethodisin entered on its high commission to 
disperse the fearful gloom of that long night of almost two 

The characteristics of those obstacles are the exnonents of 
that agency ^vludi was to overcome them. Unlike the Reformv 
Uon of Germany, whicii was a war against folse doctrine, the 
Wesleyan movement was a conflict with dead formality and 
corrupt maunei's. "^ 

That the Christian Church is the organic form of spiritual 
life 13 that great pnuciple whose development is the philoso].hv 
of Methodism. -^ ■■ " 

At several points our author finds a striking similarity between 
the incipient stj-uggles of Christianity in the apostolic ao-e, and 
those ot the AA c.leyan revival in the last century. In nothin- 
was this similarity more striking than in the uUer absence of 
all pomp and circumstance. The living truths of redemptiuu 
flowed from apostles lips not often in the temple or synagogue, 

ISC3.1 Stevens's History of MetJiodism. 20T 

but on the ship and shore, on Mars' Hill and in judgment halls 
an J ill the jail at Philippi, in the private dwelling and by the 
\rav ei Je, and wherever there were listening ears to drink in the 
♦* jovful sound." Equally homeless and churchless was incipient 
Mt't'hodism. Its most signal victories were won when its preach- 
t r?, excluded from churches, raised their mighty voices beneath 
the open canopy of heaven ; when crowded thousands hung with 
raj.ture on their artless lips ; when school-rooms, private houses, 
Rtul city commons witnessed the unutterable emotions of agitated 
crowds. There, despite of all external inconveniences, the word of 
life, invested with irrepressible energies, mysteriously expanded 
and multiplied. Thousands seemed to hear the voice from heaven 
which startled the German monk on the staircase at Rome, 
raying, " The just shall live by faith.'' This germinant princi- 
j.le of the great reformation once more develojjed its measure- 
less power to disenthrall and enraptm-e the penitent. 

This third volume of Dr. Stevens's history grasps forty-eight 
years, being the most thrilling period of Methodism. Being 
the seventh and closing book of the series, it contains eighteen 
chapters, spread over more than five hundred pages. The 
author has opened the volume by most grapliically depicting 
tlie last decade of the eighteenth century so far as it relates to 
his subject. The events of that period he shows to have been 
toj stirring to ever fade from history. The fields M'ill continue ■ 
rt'd that were drenched with blood, and the re-erected tlirones 
('f Europe are scarcely yet fii-m that it shook to the ground. 
l>ut the event that most painfully interested the Wesleyan 
f-ucieties was the death of \\\q\y founder. 

The author has shown that this event created through the 
connection the profoundest concern for its continued unity and 
efficiency. It was regarded as pregnant with consequences 
^vhich might be disastrous to the great evangelical movement. 
"While it generated these fears on the part of friends, it rekin- 
»llfd the hopes of enemies. It was feared that at the last gasp 
'■'f this apostolic man the fraternal bond of the connection 
^voukl dissolve, and that the societies of which he had been the 
hinding center would go off in scattered fragments. It was 
lioped by the foes of " the revival," that now the " invincihle 
O'j'ttator''^ was gone, the repose of the Church would be 
unbroken, and the amusements of the Sabbath be resumed. 

208 Stevens's History of Methodism. [April, 

Both parties ^vcll knew tlie height to which that influence 
had reached, which had been accumuUiting for more than half 
a century, which had poured its swelling stream through the 
first and second generations to the third. But neither those 
hopes or fears have ever become a realization. 

The powers of this unique eliaracter, formed of strong and 
well-balanced elements, precluded the very result that was 
dreaded. That power was too great and holy to be exclusively 
embodied in his j^crson. It imbued with au ever-living spirit 
the entire organism Avhich Providence had formed by his skill- 
ful hand. The agency of Wesley was of that class of moral 
influences which time cannot waste nor social changes neutral- 
ize. Enthroning itself flnnly in the moral powers of our being, 
it is imperishable as they. 

Both the fears and hopes, therefore, that the cause of TVesley 
would die with him ignored that great principle, that divine 
truth, inculcated by holy agency, will erect to itself monuments 
more durable than brass. 

It is true, that never did the stroke of death fall on a more 
venerated head of a community. The afiection of the societies 
was the basis of his authority. The vigor of his purj^ose, the 
purity of his motives, the power of his perseverance, the lofti- 
ness of his aim, all bathed in the liglit of a singular intelligence, 
made his sway absolute over all he served. But death could 
not abolish, but only transfer this power from his person to his 
cause. This organism, made vital in every part, would in a 
manner perpetuate his life through ages in an expanded form. 
But the calamities to the connection which were apprehended 
as following Mr. Wesley's death, were the more feared from the 
great political upheaval of Europe. The revolution in France 
burst on the nations like an earthquake which had engulfed the 
empire. The whirlwind . of revolution passed over populous 
states, and ancient thrones tottered to their fall. No moral 
interest remained unscathed in its course. 

This outbreak was the more desolating from its unnatural 
alliance with infiddity. This in its darkest type, in the form 
of atheism, for the first time in man's history, identified itself 
with the rights of man, and was borne forward on the, popular 
tide to a loftier position than ever before attained. Eoman 
superstition was the transition ground over which the national 

l>«j.'{.] Steve7is^s Ilistory of Metliod'mn. 209 

!!u"«ul passed to^broad infidelity. Ages of corruption prepared 
\\ for the nioAstrous leap. The scene opened by tliis twofold 
.H^n'Mc-y in France is alone in history. God was rejected, reason 
<!«itic<I, the immortality of man blotted out, and the eternity of 
tli-alh avoM'ed. Then rolled forward the tide of fire ! '' The mob 
t\i-fUtioners of to-day became the mob victims of to-morrow. 
The streets flowed with blood, and terror sat on its throne of 
►kiilis," the nation shivered with a chill of horror on the brink 
of the ya^vning gulf. The same maddening cup was tasted 
l.y other nations ; they were frenzied by the draught, and 
wcTO hastening to a kindred doom. 

England itself, our author has sho^vn, was not without its 
fvinj^athizers. The monstrous wedlock contracted between 
iufiilc'lity and liberty deluded the lovers of human rights into 
uii advocacy for XXiaford betrayers of those rights. They rejected 
(f>»d iu order to obtain the boon of liberty for man. Though 
this moral blight had not smitten England as a nation, not a 
few of her representative minds had received its virus, and 
v.xtTted an agency to make the infection general. This deathly 
malady chilled the ardor of religion and loosened the bonds of 
•^'•ciety. Though the Wesleyan revival was a wall of brass 
iii-'ainst this continental flood, yefllie etEcIent^y of tliat revival 
.Nva.-i weakened by the infidelity of Yoltaire. It cannot be con- 
<"oaled that the controversies among the successors of Wesley 
wiTc rendered more alarming by this external hostile force ; that 
tliis increased the perils of the Connection, when its peace was 
•diroatened by the death of the founder. 

'1 he character of Wesley has a solitary grandeur. It required 
'■'f its development more than a single age. It is one of tliosc 
f;ire monuments destined not to waste by the lapse of time, but 
' ' accumulate in its luster, as centuries shall unfold, the asscm- 
h.age of its virtues. Still, the greatness of the man consisted 
'•'-'t 111 a monarch mind, towering above all others in the large- 
ln-'.-s of its grasp ; or in creative genius, which could construct an 
'deal fabric, gorgeous in its rainbow beauties; not in its philo- 
-"i'liii-al power of lofty generalization, by which metaphysics 
' •■>paiuls the domain of knowledge ; but in all the mental powers 
"'"gularly perfect in their balance. If his sphere of life was 
•'"t (iivinely chosen, unusual human wisdom presided over the 
<-"W'^ice. The adaptation of light to the eye is not more perfect 

210 Steoens's History of Methodism. [April, 

than was that of the man to his work. The execution of his 
life-plan required a logical, not a metaphysical mind ; dialect- 
ical, not philosophical powers. His work was that of a great 
religious reformer, not of a scientific discoverer. That lies in 
the sphere of logic, this lies in that undefined territory where 
first principles emerge from the region of mystery. His mind 
acted with great power in the logical sphere, where the 
nndimmed light of certainty shines on every step ; where the 
data are assumed and the whole process advances by the neces- 
sary laws of thought. The scholars of his age as justly entitled 
him "the h^ician^^ as "the Grecian^ The structure of his 
mind gave him the richest endowments for every sort of excel- 
lence out of the field of discovery, where the task was not to 
grapple with primary principles. 

The errors he was to correct lay within the sphere of given 
principles, and chiefly within that of revealed truth ; here he 
was at home. The unerring precision of his statements, the 
transparent clearness of his definitions, and the rigorous exacti- 
tude with which he traced to their premises all his conclusions, 
made his doctrinal i)osition impregnable, and invested moral 
evidence with the highest authority.^ 

But the character of this remarkable mind was less uncom- 
mon than tlie M'ork which it achieved. He wrought out a plan, 
says our historian, whieli could only have been accomplished by 
four men of his longevity. 1. How few devoting an entire life 
to literature have excelled him in this department ! His far- 
reaching plan comprised poetry, music, history, natural, moral, 
and political philusupliy, with almost every topic of di\'inity. 
His stupendous labor swelled the number of originated and 
abridged volumes till it reached nearly two hundred. There 
is scarcely a single mode adopted in this age for the difi'usion 
of useful knowledge among the masses which is not traceable 
to this comprehensive mind. Though he spoke through the 
press as from tlie j)ulpit " ad papiduin,^'' his productions were 
not, like those of most j^rr.lific pens, superficial, but accurate and 
profound. His de]>rh in classic lore was often betrayed by the 
gems from»the cla>sic ]>age which ornamented his volumes, and 
his depth and pcr>picuity flowed from the same ancient source. 
2. His travels alone might have occupied a long life. Between 
four and five thousand miles per year was the average distance 

IS^'.S.] Stevens s History oj Methodism. 211 

i.f lii? journeys, so tliat his aggregate travels for more tlian 
half a century was equal to ten journeys around the globe, and 
fcU till?, up to his seventieth year, was performed on horseback. 
:i. His functions as an' ecclesiastical legislator were sufficient to 
i-aipiov the utmost energies of an ordinary mind. The com- 
1 ,ict and vigorous system which grew up under his skillful hand 
jw'ars the marks of a powerful combining intellect and of a 
M^hlv practical mind. Xor was his administrative power 
interior to his originating skill. The wealth and wisdom, 
jower and policy, pride and prejudice, which combined to 
ihwart his agency, could be baffled only by a caution and per- 
wverance which characterize minds formed to govern. 4. The 
oilier division of his labor was in the pulpit. Here he had no. 
^<J\lal. Whitefield for a season was his only competitor, but fell behind him in this noble strife. Only in the extent of 
territory which he traversed did AYhitefield exceed Wesley, not 
in the number of his sermons ; while he averaged ten per week 
through his public life, Wesley delivered Meen ; and surviving 
the former more than a score of years, he delivered forty-two 
thousand, while Whitefield did not exceed eighteen thousand. 
"What historical record of all the Christian ages has brought 
<i'>\vn to us a single example to equal this? Since martyrdom 
tcruiiuated the heroic course of the apostles, Wesley has stood 
alone^ and shines in his solitary grandeur. 

When it is remembered that in all these four departments 
this unique mind achieved complete success in the face of appall- 
ing obstacles, how can we withhold our admiration ? A life 
protracted to within a dozen years of a century, under this 
■ :::inense weight of care and toil, must have been '' a charmed 
l'5e,-' a life providentially appropriated ; and this has its proof in 
the fur-reaching results of that extraordinary agency. The prob- 
h.-in of his character has its solution in the appointment of God, 
*'h1 in the results of the legitimate workings of his great plan. 

" His was a life," says Dr. Stevens, " which the philosopher 
i-.iu^ pronounce singularly successful and fortunate, and the 
^-'hri.-tiun singularly providential ^ UnHke most great men, 
^ho die M-ith their life-plans immature, he survived to witness 
^I'o completion of his. Substantially his was finished before 
•-« death transferred it to other hands, only circumstantially 
^'tis it modified after his departure. His successors were ade- 

012 Stevens's History of Methodism. [April, 

(jUHto to ilds^ after bj Ms own wisdom that had been achieved. 
Jli- "rout organic system had in its texture the elements of 
jvcrijiancncy; an accurately defined theology, a perfectly 
u<iai>ted literature, a well-adjusted scheme of Church govern- 
ment conspired to give to it strength and. vitality. Well might 
lie resign this to the operation of providential events which 
hliould continue shaping it better to work out its lofty destiny, 

Ife lived till the storm of persecution had restrained its rage, 
till the tongue of slander had ceased to defame him, till per- 
eonal foes had repented, of their hostility or dropped into the 
grave. Order was the spirit that ruled his mighty life. His 
parsimony of time was equal only to the rigidity with which 
he appropriated all his waking and sleeping hours. His time 
for sleep commenced at nine in the evening, his hour of rising 
was four in the morning. Through all the rigor of the seasons, 
at a latitude of fifty degrees, this veteran, under the weight of 
eighty years, was seen rising from his bed, lighting his own fire, 
and resuming his life-task. 

As the time of his departure approached, all his arrange- 
ments were made so as to be consummated in that event. The 
Bcene of liis death was the focal point on which all the achieve- 
ments of his life shed their converging lights. With an eye 
directed fo the heavens, and with a spirit glowing in the IXFIX- 
ITE smile, lie passed the mortal change with the calmness of 
infant slumbers.* 

* On no merely psj-chologioal theory will the problem of ilr. Wesley's character 
admit of solution. All who have attempted it on such ground have caricatured 
rather than ])ortrayed tliat great man. Viewed from the true stand-point, there is 
no historic character in human annals of easier solution; never was there one of 
greater siraplicit}-. By ignoring the constancy and loftiness of his aim, the key to 
the arcana of his character i.s lost. This, properly considered, unravels all mystery, 
and simplifies every complication. The whole machinery which he worked was 
adapted to these Virce. emls, namely : To secure men's conversion to God ; to retain 
them in that spiritual state; and to he aggressive beyond all limitation. In accom- 
jilisliing this sublime triplex object he was guided by the broadest principles, 
impelled by the most expansive charity, and chained to his life-plan by the unity of 
his hallowed purpose. The Wesleyan Institute has proved itself a masterpiece of 
social organization for the working out of these great ends. Had it combined com- 
phcatcd impulses, which should secure a harmonious interaction, the utmost success 
■tt'ouM have demanded a mind unlike Wesley's. But the simplicity of the principles 
of his Institute furnished full scope to his great powers. Indeed, the supernatural 
c-k inent is the true key to Wesleyauism. This had so permeated all his powers and 
purix)£e.s, that his heart and foce were bright and glowing as the sun. His \\holo 

l^iVi.] Stevens's Histoid of Methodism. .213 

I-Vw topics of his history has Dr. Stevens sketched with a more 
tr.u-tcrlv haud than tlie Wesleyan scheme of education. He 
fhows that in this, as in other prospective interests, the founder 
,-!' .Nffthodism did not allow the present to exclude the future, 
l.ul acted with equal reference to both ; that, penetrated with 
t];o assurance that felt religion is the quickener of the intellect, 
w hilc he promoted that, he provided for this. At the very dawu 
..;■ i!ie revival he projected his educational plan. This plan 
Surst into execution, tiot suddenly and prematurely, but gradu- 
..ilv, as the educational demands of the Connection advanced. 
\\w great leaders have furnished so practical a solution of the 
j rublein of education as connected with religion. He was pro- 
I'undly convinced that while this connection was genuine, the 
1 "•!! of education was invaluable — that being a monument 
♦ ricted in mind no waste of ages could crumble it. After the 
Kingswood school had shone with a bright and growing luster 
Tt more than two generations ; after it had shaped the character 
*'\ juiiiisters' sons for large usefulness in social positions, auxil- 
i.iiies to it arose in the shape of many high schools, and in that 
'I'll normal school, whose building alone cost more than two 
!iisiidred thousand floUars. Then, by the aid of princely dona- 
:'"U>, the Connection established live hundred day-schools, which 
"•q;ut instruction to almost one hundred thousand children. 
It Was impossible that such an educational agency should long 
«'liTute amid the great mass of AVesleyans without fastening 
^'l-*'!! them this conviction, namely, that the standard of joidjpit 
^^•tllifjence jnu-st he 7'aised. Indeed, it required no far-seeing 
>-',_':u:ity to determim3 that such an agency would create this 
■•■ :iiaiid, and that a failure to meet it woukl be the fatal arrest 
< f progress. The foresight of this had long stirred the leading 
--Jills of the Connection, which fuv years had looked anxiously 
"J""und for means to meet this inevitable demand. 

The founder, who contemplated the future with a more 
i'-' -cing eye, prophetically inquired at his tirst conference, 

" - •tor was so radiant with genuine benevolence that his heart would have 
•'- an ang-ol's bosom. What account can be given of the Uving green of May, or 
-« rjdi;xiit bloom of spring, if the sun in the heavens be ignored? Extinguish that 
("'•• mairieian, and all solution is impossible. t>o would it be with Wesley's char- 
'• *■ f, .'iiMrt rrnm the eternal Eeam that painted all ics beauties. As the power of 
'' '' »'>:■■! the secret of his success, the mystery of Methodism is resolvable only in 
' ""' ■■"iipri.-niu Agency. 

l'"t K-ni Skuiks, Vol. XV.— 14 

214 Stevens's History of Methodism. [April, 

" How can we obtain an institution for ministerial education ?'• 
A satisfactory answer to this momentous inquiry, which was 
reiterated from conference to conference, was postponed onlv 
by the want of fit instructors and financial resources. Mean- 
time the desideratum was but limitedly supplied by the Kings- 
wood school. Our author, with his characteristic exactness 
and elegance, traces these steps till the conference, in 1834, had 
reached the point when their plan burst into execution — their 
theory became a fact. Then he proceeds to show in tlie 
h'ght of facts, and with the clearness of vision, that the force of 
those very circumstances which had originated a theological 
school has not since ceased to give it ample support, and that 
the hopes in which the conference established it have been 
abundantly realized in the fruits of both its branches. 

This scheme, which had been maturing for more than half a 
century, and^ which had been pressed upon the attention of the 
conference by such powerfully combining minds as Bunting, 
Newton, and Watson, warranted all that confidence which 
experiment has since justified. But momentous as was tliis 
enterprise, and splendid as has been its success, it was not 
inaugurated without opposition, though the' causes were vari- 
ous which combined to oppose it, and the hostility determined 
with which it was to grapple. The famous Dr. Warren was its 
most formidable antagonist. Indeed, he wielded all the ele- 
ments of the opposition ; not, as Dr. Stevens has shown, from 
an honest conviction that some interest of religion would be 
periled by the enterprise, but from the smart endured in 
wounded ambition, which he perceived was to be utterly 
disappointed by the management of the institution being com- 
mitted to other hands. The iron purpose of the doctor, and of 
the party he represented, to shake down the Wesleyan polity, 
made him reckless of expense, and repeated in his appeals to 
the courts of justice. But that legal process issuing not in the 
overthrow of that polity, but in the exhibition of the adamantine 
strength of its great principles, left no hope to the disaflected. 
and banished all doubt from the friends of the Connection. 
Our history embraces a most thrilling picture of the intense 
interest with which many Wesleyans witnessed every step of 
this legal inquiry — the breathless solicitude with which they 
waited for the decision of the court, and their irrepressible 

ISC3.1 Stevens's Hi^toi-y of Methodism. 215 

amotions when that decision rang out full and clear in support 
<tf the conference. 

]?ut Dr. 'V\^irren, goaded on by the agitating element of his 
nature, Iiad the temerity to carry the case to a higher tribunal. 
But here again patient investigation issued in the same triumph- 
itiit result. The moral grandeur of the cause electrified the 
court, and convinced it that nothing but persecution could 
cjill in question its comprehensively-benevolent principles, and 
elicited from the judges of both courts the most expressive 
eulogy on Methodism, jSTever was there a just cause violentlv 
ft-spailed with less success ; never were the intrinsic excellencies 
of a \'ilified cause more effectually elicited by an enemy's 

This final decision from so high a tribunal determined for 
a-cs the legal stability of the'Wesleyan system. It rang 
through the Connection as the blast of a trumpet, reassuring 
the thousands of its earnest friends. 

The school of the prophets, the immediate occasion of this 
^•rce attack, has worked to a charm, vastly exceeding the most 
therished hopes of its founders. Its powerful development 
I'laees it among the mightiest reinforcements of the AVesleyan 
J'linistry. About eighty young ministers now occupy tliose 
»icred halls. Nearly five hundred have issued from them pre- 
Hred to do the work of evangelists. Yast portions of the 
itinerant field at home now smile beneath the culture of their 
hands. They are numerously in the foreign work, grappling 
^ith the man of sin, and with the fiercest agencies of idolatry. 

'io cause of missions has numbered among them not only its 
'■'"•'t eloquent and tireless advocates, but its brave and triumph- 
*i«t martyrs. Many ages will not sufiice to compute that 
^•uazmg energy added by this institution to the missionary char- 
»'-tcT of the Methodist ministry. So far are the Connection now 
ij>in regarding it as an ^'innovation,'' they consider it as one 
';• the most legitimate developments of ^Ycsleyanism— not the 
>»trfxluction of a new and alien principle, but a beautiful 
*I'l'hcation of the principle which the Connection has ever 
' ^'"gnized. Thus the stupendous results of this expedient have 
^' vMiced all objection, and unified the Connection in the con- 
|y-non that it resulted from that far-seeing wisdom by which 
'"evidence had so long guided that powerful ministry. 

216 Stevens's Ilktory of Methodism. [April, 

Our liistory shows tlmt Wesley and TTliitefield were the most 
famous of all the stirring preachers of the eighteenth century. 
Tliey were similar, howercr, only in the power of their piety 
and in the thrilling eloquence of their sermons. That original 
greatness stamped on the mind of "Wesley had scarcely its 
shadow in the powers of Whitefield. The latter was merely 
an orator; the former added to this characteristic the deptli 
and breadth of a philosopher. Each became the leader of one 
of the Methodistic divisions : TVhiteficld of the Calvinistic, and 
"Wesley of the Arminian. But when that orator, whose elo- 
quence melted and agitated crowded thousands, descended the 
pulpit and wielded tlie pen, the giant became an infant. His 
vindication of Calvinism was a faint echo of what had been more 
powerfully uttered l)y mightier minds in bygone ages ; while 
Wesley's compi-ehcnsive mind, grasping the entire controversy, 
had carefully traced it from its incipiency with Augustine 
through the conflicting action of the councils in the following 
centuries, and amid the strife of the two ancient monastic 
orders, and in its xevival again when the long-extinguished 
Christian light was re]<indled in the sixteenth century. But 
not only was Wesley fomiliar with the far-reaching history of 
this contruversy, but, his great logical powers enabled him to 
do much toward settling it. By a single glance his keen eye 
pierced the sophistry by which Mr. Whitefield and other better 
dialecticians had advocated " the decrees." He regarded the 
.most successful attempts to improve the Calvinian schen:ie as 
ruinous of its symmetry and self-harmony. He conceded 
the self-consistency of it, and therefore maintained that, as a 
whole, it was in conflict with other universally recognized 
principles. The Baxterian and Edwardian modifications, seem- 
ing to mitiirate the v'vj^ov of those stern doirmas, had been larsely 
adopted. ]tut AVesley maintained that these, and all kindred 
apologies for the unconditional election and reprobation ot 
men, involve the same revolting principle M'hich so many great 
minds had urged against the Augustinian dogmas; that, in 
fact, there could be no middle way between old Calvinism and 
downright Pelagianism. He repudiated all attempts to restrict 
the decrees to the elect, and urged that election inherently 
involved reprobation; that if the elect could believe only a> 
they were necessitated, the non-elect could only disbelieve lor 

\<C,^.] Stevens's History of Methodism. 217 

llio want of being thus necessitated ; that the correlation, there- 
lurx', between election and reprobation was sucli as that to cancel 
ihc one was to render the other impossible, and that, conse- 
nuently, whatever objection can be legitimately urged against 
the decree of reprobation, lies with the same crushing force 
ft^'-.iinst the decree of election. 

Tlie five points on which the Synod of Dort tried and con- 
I'.cMiiied the Eemonstrants, "W^eslej regarded as involved in the 
coiitrovei-sv, whatever phase it assumed. This was suggested 
by the title Arminian, which he gave to his Magazine, (1778.) 
Tlie doctrinal positions relating to this controversy, which 
were vindicated in tliis periodical, were these five, namely: 
'*1. God's decrees fixing the destiny of the righteous and the 
wicked were conditioned on the foreseen. unnecessitated charac- 
ter of the two. 2. That Christ having propitiated for all men, 
.'ill might believe and be saved. 3. That human depravity 
could be subdued and regeneration effected only by the Spirit 
tlirough faith. -1. That this energy of the Spirit can be repelled, 
.'•..s the will is free. 5. That it is possible for the regenerated to 
:»i'0.-tatize and perish." 

The tlu-ead of connection running through these five topics 
^ii'-'ws them to be several parts of an indivisible whole. As 
la'ither of them could be true without involving the truth of 
the others, so no one of them could be false unless all were so. 
Ihe smi-like clearness with which Wesley discussed these pro- 
I-^-sitions in his doctrinal tracts had never been excelled. On 
t'le same questions the sprightly pen of Fletcher was more 
j.irirely employed. His " Checks to Antinomianism " have shed 
^ luster on these doctrines which a whole century has left 
<5ii<liinmed, and which, in the hands of the Methodist ministry, 
''^ve gone lar to revolutionize tlie English and American pulpit. 

^ he. sentence in the Minutes, that "i<;e have leaned too much 
(oicard Calvinism,^'' was the kindling spark in the magazine. 
A •^ though the most blighting heresy that could peril the car- 
<'iri;d doctrines of Christianity had arisen, the Calvinistic 
Meihodists arose in their might to crush it in its germ. More 
than six years measured this severe conflict. !N"o controversy 
'f' the history of Methodism was more violent. 

iliat for an entire century not a shadow of change has since 
=»l'l»eured in the Arminian t^-pe of Methodism, is a fact elo- 

218 Stevens's History of Methodism. [April, 

quent of the argumentative power with which it was then 

The powerful advocates of Calvinism centralized around that 
remarkable lady, the Countess of Huntingdon, E'o woman in 
England commanded more moral power, or rallied on a great 
doctrinal question more literary talent. 

The character of the opposing champions enhanced the 
interest of the spirited controversy, while the strength of the 
opposition to Arminianism elicited the invincible arguments 
which sustained it. 

But of all the marked features in Wesleyan Methodism, none 
is invested with more moral beauty than its missionary charac- 
teristic. Xor do we* elsewhere find it depicted with that 
simplicity, comprehensiveness, and rigid exactitude with which 
it is portrayed in the history before us. Dr. Stevens has shown, 
by ample illustrations, the spirit of missions to be vital to 
Methodism, and therefore to have been one of its inevitable 
developments. lie has thus proved that the inborn power 
which made it expansive at home could never permit it to 
remain at home ; that its destiny was aggression till the whole 
ransoiiied territory sliall be conquered. The rapid diffusion 
of it.-elf through British Protestantism was prophetic of its 
higher mission by v/hich an incoming age was to be stirred. 
Long before this li\'ing element had embodied itself in mis- 
sionary .'societies, its irrepressible energies had borne it to other 
lands. Panting for the disenthrallment of the race, it made 
its way to the islands of the sea and to the continent of 
America. The doctor justly regards the foreign missionary 
work as the third permanent stage of the AYesleyan develop- 
ment. But he shows that prior to this the expansive power 
of this living clement had extended it into jSTova Scotia, (17G5,) 
into the West India Islands, (17C0,) into JN'orth America, (1700.) 

The great repre^cntative of the movement in this foreign 
work at a later ])eriod was Dr. Coke. While this apostoHc 
man circumstantially, varied greatly from his ministerial coad- 
jutors, suhsiantiallij lie was one with them. The same irre- 
pressible energy which impelled them to penetrate the cottage 
of ignorance, the back lanes of London, and the gloomy haunts 
of vice everywhere to cheer dark spirits by the lamp of heavenly 
hope, that same spirit prompted Coke to fly to the islands of 

1S63J SUvena'a History of Methodism. 2i9 

Uie sea and to distant continents. After his fifth missionary 
voyage to America, our history traces him to the West India 
I.-Iaiids, and exhibits his profound sympathy with the persecuted 
missionaries at these posts of danger. 

Tliere this great-hearted man was shocked by the barbarity 
i.f the persecution, and dehghted with the heroism with which 
it was braved. Finding the sable crowd before the grated 
window of the missionary's dungeon bathed in tears, under 
tlie utterances of his heavenly message, the doctor was thrilled 
uith renewed confidence in the success of this sublime struggle. 
lie declared that the Spirit which sustained these buoyant suf- 
ferers was the same by which the martyrs shouted in the flames. 
I'enetrated with the incongruity of these colonial persecutions, 
v.-ith the unrestricted toleration of the parent state. Coke no 
fooner returned to England than he shaped matters to urge it 
on the notice of Parliament. This appeal was completely suc- 
cesstul. Those barbarous laws were annulled, the prison doors 
unbarred, and the immm-ed heralds of Christ were once more 
blowing the trumpet of truth. 

At this period Dr. Coke seemed the embodiment of the mis- 
fionnry zeal of the age. lie had not merely planned, estab- 
li-hed, and supervised many missions in the British colonies, 
hut arranged for one in Asia, on which he intended to enter in 
{•erson. Though this heroic purpose was defeated by his sud- 
den death in the midst of his vovage thither, the mission he had 
I'lanned was not a failure. The missionaries accompanying 
him had scarcely dried the tears in which they had bathed the 
remains of their departed leader, when they resolved to inau- 
gurate the enterprise for which he had given his life. The 
ITovidenee was startling which had bereaved them, but they 
^^ere too profoundly consecrated to the ransom of India to leave 
iiiiattempted the execution of Coke's great scheme. They 
ndvanced with an intrepid step to grapple with the giant idol- 
^^^y of that ancient nation, and thus was prepared the way for 
tJio?c stupendous achievements of which India has since been 
^J»ti theater. 

"•^ut as our history shows, the death of this ubiquitous mis- 

fciunary not only did not defeat the well-devised mission in the 

^■-•L^t, but, while it struck the knell through the Church, "it was 

^ s^unimons to the Church to rise universally and march round 


220 Sievens^s Histoid of Methodism. [April, 

tlje world.'' His personal agency, •wliicli, in its single unaided 
flVort.-^, seemed almost adequate to the demands of missions, had 
now ceased. The painful consciousness of this stirred the leud- 
ifi" minds of the Connection to their depth, and the conferences, 
arose as a unit to supply this service. The movement was so 
j.rofound as to thrill the Protestantism of Europe, which now 
struck for the universal evangelization of the nations. This 
fcpirit became pervasive and dominant, especially in the dis- 
senting Churches, and was destined thenceforth to shape and 
emblazon their history. Forthwith arose in rapid succession 
the great missionary associations of the age. First appeared 
the Baptist Society, (1792,) then the Scottish Society, (1T9G,) 
andtJien the London Missionary Society, (1795,) which Dr. 
Stevens has traced directly to Methodism in its Calvinistic form. 
Of the many millions poured through these cliannels into the 
missionary treasury, the AVesleyans alone, in half a century, 
contributed more than seventeen millions of dollars. 

Thus this great revival of the eighteenth century has given 
the strongest attestation of its vital force in tlie missionary 
efficacy it has displayed. The vital spirit which it breathed on 
those self-sacrificing liundreds who have sublimely expatriated 
themselves to kindle heavenly hope in barbarous climes, could 
not be diN-erse from that which fell in tongues of fii'e on the 
Pentecostal ministers. Those, like these, surmounted obstacles 
the most formidable. Wealth and wisdom, pride and prej- 
udice, power and policy, hate and superstition, all gave way 
before these anointed heralds. 

For six years succeeding 1S21 the mission field amazingly 
expanded ; an island or a group of islands were annually added 
to it. But in almost every instance the heavenly work was 
inaugurated under a storjn of persecution ; still, ascendancy was 
gained under its severest peltings. Their persons, their chapels, 
the entire circles of their interests, were often periled by the 
fury of the mob. But amid all these perils the stream of Gospel 
influence swelled and rolled on with accumulating power till no 
resistance could arrest it ; so that in less than twenty years they 
were in the midst of scenes resembling apostolic triumphs among 
ancient pagans, who cast their idols to the bats and their books to 
the fliunes. Indeed, the achievements made by new-born Chris- 
tianitv were a'^'ain repeated on these dark islands of the ocean. 

1^03.1 Stevens's History of Methodism. 221 

Our history has not ignored the effect on the great eraanci- 
iintiuii struggle whicli was exerted by this moral change of 
iho«e enslaved pagans. It stirred many a noble heart in 
jjiglund to toil for their disenthrallment. In 1S07 the friends 
,.r the black man saw the end of the slave-trade, and twenty- 
i^ven years later they triumphed in the freedom of the colonies. 
Now ceased forever the tarring and feathering and imprisoning 
.niid vexing the heroic missionaries. The last day of slavery 
lijid come, and thrilling were the events that closed the dark 
hirtory of human chattelism on these islands. Eight hmidred 
tliousand slaves crowded round the altars of religion. The 
h"^bt of freedom should dawn on them in the temple of God. 
The midnight hour saw them on their knees ; the clock struck 
the eventful hour, and rung out freedom to almost a million of 
i-liives. They arose unfettered by the chains in which they 
were born, and through the midnight heavens they rolled the 
liotes of thanksgiving, uttering, like the sound of many waters, 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow. 

Uut we must hasten to notice by a single glance the last act 
in the great drama which is depicted in the closing chapters of 
t!ii^ interesting volume. This consisted in what signalized the 
"Centenary of ]\Iethodism." Our author having looked with 
K-rntiny into those events which are supposed to have inaugu- 
rated Methodism, justifies the Connection in determining the 
tiiirty-ninth year of the last century as its birthtime. That 
p'.Jch an era in the history of Protestantism should glide away 
^vitli the undistinguished past was regarded ungrateful to Prov- 
iicncc. To cominemorate it by monuments significant of its 
^ultlinie character was therefore resolutely determined. The 
ii::n was not merely retrospective — to recall the divine interfer- 
I'Jices in the progress of the movement ; but also prospective — 
<*> I'romote the far-reaching interests now committed to the 
^•'•luiection. It was not " the boastful iuljilation of a successful 
*^^ ^' but a profound expression of felt obligation to the living 
Htad of the Church, This \vas made chiefly not by the fervid 
^^pressions of the lips, but by the unequivocal utterances of 
^^'iton- by princely contributions to the noblest of great 


i hough the determination of the conference was to make 

222 Stevens's History of IfetJwdism. [April, 

the primary object of tlie jubilee the pious advancement of the 
societies, still the " Centenary " subserved to an amazing extent 
the enlargement of their institutions. Our historian portrays 
with vision-like power the preparatory steps to this grand ova- 
tion. The picture wliich he draws, for instance, of the Man- 
chester meeting in the preceding year opens the thrilling scene 
before yom- very eyes. There you see a galaxy of representa- 
tive minds through which all the voices of the Connection 
seemed to have utterance ; npon which all the lights that had 
fallen on the pathway of a century appeared to converge. This 
proved not to be the transient glow of a happy social hour, but 
a kindled flame which should pervade England, and, unquenched 
by the ocean, kindle American Metliodism. 

Kever before did the whole British Connection so comj^ete to 
swell the great thank-offering to God. The six objects were 
first determined to which the contributions should be appro- 
priated. They were, 1. The edifices for the two theological 
institutions. 2. The Centenary Buildings in London — the new 
mission rooms, and '' Mission Ship." 3. Tlie relief of distressed 
chapels, -i. A better support for worn-out preachers, and for 
the widows of the deceased. 5. The building of a " Centenary 
Chapel'' in Dublin, G. And the funds of the education com- 

Most of these objects were vital to the invigoration and 
expansion of the Connection. All the circuits in the kingdom 
vied in their munificent offerings for these noble objects. 
More than seventeen hundred thousand dollars was the aggre- 
gate sum contributed by the various Methodist bodies, an 
amount exceeding the contribution of any Protestant body in 
the world. The princely character of this offering, almost two 
millions, was more signal, as it was made in a year of unpar- 
alelled commercial dciircssion. 

But that which most distinguished the "Centenary" as an 
era in Methodism was the vast accumulation of its moral poiccr. 
Those large olfcring>, cast into the treasury, were indications 
of the depth and extent of tlie Christian affection which bound 
in unity the entire Connection. Every donor seemed to inscribe 
on his contribution the remembrance of some personal benefit 
or family blessing of which Methodism had been the channel. 
The English nation for the first time now awoke to the grandeur 

1SG3.1 Stevens's Ilistory of Methodism. 223 

of that moral power which had arisen in its midst. Astonishment 
KMZt'd the public mind in view of its miglity workings. At this 
cok'l'ration, all Christendom was thrilled by this unequivocal 
expression of moral feeling which was literally fathomless ; the 
inipctus felt by the Connection from these collected forces of a 
whole century has not yet expended its power, and may con- 
tiuuc to operate tln-ough the lapse of another century. 

As our aim in this article has been to epitomize some prom- 
inent topics in the volume rather than to animadvert on any 
literary defects in it, we hope that the utility thus secured %vill 
compensate for the want of that acumen which is involved in 
critical discrimination. ^Nevertheless, it will not be out of har- 
mony with this aim to conclude our review of the volume with 
two or three critical suggestions on its scientific character. 

Xever did Gieselcr utter a profounder truth than in affirming 
that " no spiritual phenomena external to ourselves can be cor- 
rectly understood in a historical way without reproducing them 
in ourselves." The internal evidence of the history before us 
t-troiigly indicates that it was written under the influence of 
t!iis sentiment. Much of the fascination experienced in perus- 
ing this volume is referrible to the reproducing power of the 
writer, by which the great events and actors of the century 
are placed before us. The want of this talent in a historian 
would be poorly compensated by pointed wit, bold contrast, or 
light flashes of original conceptions. Indeed, the rush of great 
thoughts, which startle by their massiveness, would be a poor 
substitute for this rare talent in the historian. 

It seems to us impossible to read this history without feeling 
til at its author has so deeply communed with its chief subjects 
ft^ rather to belong to their times than to his own, as to place 
tlicm again on the great stage, and make them act over again 
their parts which they had so nobly sustained. The remote is 
thus made near ; tlie past, present. Instead of a dry aggrega- 
tion of materials, a record of mere facts, a mass of phenomena 
•uielassified, we have a skillfiirtransfer of coimectcd events and 
ot living actors, made in the blended spirit of religious earnest- 
Jiess and of human sympathy. Xor can we deny to this history 
'*cute discernment, accompanied by delicate taste, with corre- 
•^pondiug precision of language and fluency of style. But in 
^*»r view these great excellencies have not precluded all 

224 Stevens's History of Methodism. L\pri], 

defects. The facts so exactly stated, so skillfully arranged, and 
80 eloquently appropriated, are not always so illuminated by the 
torch of philosophy as to show hov) and why they thus occurred, 
and not otherwise. The ties running through intervening events 
are not always so traced as to detect the vital relation between 
the near and the remote. 

Though facts form the web of history, to skillfully group them 
is not the chief power of history. Facts alone are barren and 
voiceless; to have significancy they must be traced upward to 
their efficient causes, and downward to their final causes. Their 
meaning must be sought not in themselves, but in their vital 
relations ; so that they furnish an index to what preceded them, 
and to what comes after them ; to those influences both imme- 
diate and indirect, near and remote. This involves a double 
development, and involves the two classes of actors, divine and 
human, God and man ; and two opposing principles, evil and 
good. Without observing this vital connection of events, how 
can their phenomena be legitimately classified? IIow can the 
historian determine whether they have flowed from individual 
passions, social impulses, or religious instincts? "Whether each 
event be one of that scries of which man is causal, or of M'hich 
God is causal:; AVhcther a given event has only been appro- 
priated by divine agency, as arc all events, or has also been 
caused by that agency? lie may perceive, indeed, in the very 
conflict of events the repugnancy of their sources, but without 
a just assortment of them. IIow can he avoid confounding the 
real with the apparent? To preclude this error events of a 
class must be found morally homogeneous. Xo mind being 
constructed to consider anything alone, the danger lies not in 
treating events as fragments, but in arranging them in false 

Of the great law of association. Dr. Stevens has ainply availed 
himself in one direction. In regarding AVesley as the central 
agency, it was facile tracing the remotest events to their source ; 
grasping the thoughts, motives, and purposes of this master 
spirit, it was not difficult rea(;hing the forces which operated 
on his subordinate agencies. The latter, therefore, must be 
studied in the former, and must be arranged' and developed on 
the same principle. I3ut in the AVesleyan revival the doctor 
found not only the great actor in the founder of Methodism, 

1SC3.] Stevens's History of Methodism. 225 

but the central event of tlie age in the concentration of the ver- 
t^malbj pious into one living organism. This event he found 
txareiital to all subordinate events concurring to make this great 
muvenient. xSo mass of events, ho^-ever huge, under such 
la'atnient, will remain chaotic, as tliis will serve as a clue 
through the labyrinth. Witli very slight exceptions, our history 
avoids the blunder of locating the near for the remote, and of 
bubstituting the trivial for the important, and also of finding 
tlie chief cause in a single element of the. cause. Those, for 
example, that fijid the cause of the great Methodist movement 
in the closing of the church doors against ^""esley, resemble 
hueli as refer the reformation of Luther to the wish of the 
rvformer to obtain a wife. 

The strictly scientific character whicli now pervades all 
cla.^scs of researches cannot be withheld from Churcli histoiy, 
AVhat is dead is alone— can have nothing to unfold, can make 
no part of a living system — and^ should therefore never be 
obtriided into history to break its thread or mar its symmetry. 
As nothing can be tested %nthont a rule, and the vitality of this 
cla>o of events can have no rule out of the Scriptures, to ignore 
these as the underlying principle is a radical defect. This 
rule, then, is indispensable, for the double purpose of rejecting 
tiie erroneous and accepting the true. Indeed, we maintain 
that Church history in its utmost depth cannot be fathomed 
^vithout ultimate reference to God's oracles as its underlying 
stratum. How, for example, can a key be found to the origin 
«»t* tendencies, by which successive periods have been distin- 
;;ui.-hcd, without a knowledge of the various conceptions of 
-^-•riptural doctrine? Thus, what rational account would be 
jx»^>ible of those stirring events which have immortalized the 
third and fourth centuries, without an acquaintance with those 
J^'^-cnly debated doctrines that were sifted and settled by the 
5ir-t four general councils? Though a mere record of facts is 
»t» indispensable element of history, such a narrative alone can 
JJt'vcr deserve the title of history. Added to this must be that 
^ital tie which binds in unity every part of a living organ- 
•-:'», and especially whicli will connect Church events with 
^ hri^tian doctrines. It is true that equal importance cannot 
«"' attached to the formal connection between Methodist history 
^Ji'i Methodist doctrine ; still we confess, in our view, sucli 

226 Stevens's History of Methodism. [April, 

connection more elaborately traced would have much enhanced 
the value of this history. 

A brief but systematical development of Methodist theology 
m its causal relation to many of the most thrilling events of 
the great movements, would to many otherwise well-informed 
readerb' shed a startling light on the theology of our Church. 
The period of a century and a quarter has been too brief to 
convince such that the doctrines of the Methodists are not a 
series of crude notions too loosely connected to deserve the name 
of a system. Xor would the catholicity so gracefully exhibited 
in the history have been really less. While this symmetrical 
system of doctrines M'ould shed its own unborrowed light on the 
history, it would receive a reflected luster from the great events 
it had generated ; and thus would appear more strikingly the 
accordance of our theology with the primary intuitions'of the 
soul, and with tlie most obvious import of the saa-ed oracles. 
But despite these apparent defects, this work, otherwise exe- 
cuted by a master hand, should be regarded as a priceless contri- 
bution to our literature, and as a standard book of its class. 

This volume, with the two preceding ones,, should not be 
confined to the minister's library, but should be read wherever 
the English language is the channel of thought. As we look 
for a fourth volume of Methodist history from the same able 
hand, which shall trace the great Wesleyan movement in 
America, we shall await its appearance with no common solici- 
tude. Signal must be the skill which shall compress into a single 
volume the huge mass of materials which will crowd on the his- 
torian from almost a hundred years of stupendous achievements. 
The agency by which Methodism has been developed on this 
continent is in some regards unique. In part it has passed 
from the stage, and in part it still survives; while the identity 
of aim unifies the dead and the living. Great questions, more 
or less vital to the common cause, have been earnestly discussed. 
Candor, almost m..rl,id,. will be indispensable in the historian 
to preclude the charge of i)artiality, to discuss partisan ques- 
tions free from a i>artisan spirit. Should the gifted author 
succeed in this delicate task, the work will be a monument 
which ages cannot crumble, a book which generations shall 
read, a living voice of mighty utterances of the Gospel's saving 

iJiOS.J TU Two Greek Eevolutions of 1862. 227 


While upon this -western continent we have for months been 
rnllod to witness the sad loss of human life and destruction of 
property which a gigantic rebellion has inflicted upon a people 
i!i:it until yesterday had enjoyed a prosperity rarely equaled in 
ihc history of the world, and political institutions, the envy of 
all liberal men, the hand of Providence has not failed, to lend 
lo encouragement, in the midst of circumstances so much cal- 
culated to depress, by pointing not only to those seasons of 
f-evere trial which in the past have dsited every natron of 
importance, but yet more significantly to events occurring in 
our own times, which must convince us that we are but suffer- 
ii!^ the common allotment of mankind. The most firmly estab- 
li.-'hed of European monarchies have not escaped commotions 
that seemed to portend more serious conflicts in the future; 
and the little kingdom of Greece has experienced a civil war 
^^hich awakened in the minds of the older portion of the popu- 
lation an appi'ehension of the re-enactment of such scenes of 
luirrur as took place thirty or tbrty years ago, in the days of 
^\mv youth. In a former article in this Review, little more 
'han a twelvemonth since, we endeavored to convey a correct 
impression of the present political condition of the Greeks, as the 
rvjiilt of their past history, and especially of the policy of the 
government of Greece during the period that succeeded its rev- 
<'huionary struggle. AVe were naturally led to point out some 
' ' tl!0<c dangers which, in our opinion, seemed to threaten the 
•-tAhility of its peace. The record of the past year has lent to 
f-r.r fears the confirmation of fact. 

Ol* dissatisfaction with the administration of Otho there has 
l<'r a long time been no lack. The glowing expectations founded 
<^" his advent to the land of his adoption in the bloom of youth 
^C'o wholly dissipated years ago. His selfish schemes, as short- 
•^^'hted as they were permanently injurious to his subjects, dis- 
K'i^twl alike, though on very different grounds, the unenlight- 
♦ficd peasant and the enthusiastic philhellene. The foreigner 
•■'irne in contact M'itli few persons, in the intercourse he held 
^ 'th the Athenians, who would attempt to uphold the admin- 

228 The Two Greek Fuvolutions of 1862. [April, 

istration as deserving of respect, or to disguise their dislike of 
Kiug Otho. The fe^v exceptions ^\-ere found to consist in gen- 
eral of the attaches of the court, or aspirants to ofSces at the 
king's disposal. With grief ^\'ell-nigli amounting to despair, 
true patriots discovered that when a new cabinet succeeded one 
that had been overturned in consequence of the disclosure of 
flagrant malfeasance, or insufferable submission to the arbitrary 
demands of the sovereign, the new ministers were but the coun- 
terparts of their predecessors in everything but name. Kor 
was their faith in the future confirmed when the new deputies, 
returned to represent more liberal principles, proved no less 
open to the inlluence of the bribes or patronage of the court, 
so that the king rarely failed to secure a working majority in 
his favor. Yet popular commotions and abortive attempts at 
revolution, though frequent, were far less serious than might 
have been expected ; for none were so dull as not readily to 
perceive that the same powers of Europe which had placed 
Otho upon the throne could assuredly either secure him in its 
possession, or supply his place witli some other monarch, as 
much more oppressive as was King Crane than King Log, in 
the fable. 

To the ordinary sources of dfssatisfaction, which were of long 
standing, has of late been added the grievance of an unusual 
degree of interference with the freedom of the elections, and 
this of so marked a character as to elicit intimations of disap- 
proval even from foreign governments. "When the late Chamber 
of Deputies convened, it was found that there was not a single 
member elected by the opposition. The phenomenon was easy 
of explanation. In Greece the. polls are almost uniformly held 
in the churches. A couple of soldiers posted at the door, on 
the days of election, gave ready admittance to electors known 
to be favorable to the administration ; while the opposition 
vainly strove to gain access to the building, and were turne<l 
back with the announcement that their names were not u])<jn 
the register of those entitled to vote. If by any accident the 
governmental candidate was discovered to be in danger of 
defeat, the prospect Avas readily altered by the insertion <-'t 
additional ballots by the election committee and guard — ail 
being men selected fur their known devotion to the crown. 1*» 
counterbalance this accession of ballots, the names of uon-resi- 

IS«*.3.3 TJie Two Greek Bevolutions of 1SG2. 229 

.K-iits or deceased persons must be inscribed upon the lists ; and 
i; was a common report that four tiiousand dead men voted at 
Alliens alone, all on the ministerial side. ]^o wonder that with 
A IIuii~e thus elected, and with senators appointed by the cabinet 
ttithout any participation of the people in the selection, the 
•s;..-t dangerous projects were initiated toward the close of the 
w.w ISGl. Retrograde governments have always shown the 
iittnost sensitiveness to the criticism of a free press; and the 
\.tA symptoms of the proximity of revolution are frequently 
tli.'tected in the attempt to fetter its utterances. The new 
Chambers of Greece had scarcely been organized, before it was 
nniiored that an oppressive bill was to be introduced to regu- 
l-itc tlie exercise of this new organ of public sentiment. The 
]rovision that no person sliould edit a newspaper who had not 
r^'''iuircd the degree of '• didactor," or doctor, in one of the 
•' houls of the university, was intended to exclude a great part 
«'f the present corps of editors. But the additional condition 

• t" 'k'[)ositing ten thousand drachms, or nearly seventeen himd- 
r-'l (lulhirs, as caution money, was a manifest violation of the 
' •'li-titution, which, while it recognizes the pecuniary responsi- 
■ :''ry of editors and proprietors of public journals, expressly 
■j '"hi hits the exaction of security. It was remarked by one 
-ell (jualified to judge, that some few of the present corps might 
J-'.rhaps conform to tlie latter requirement, but that barely two 
'- ' three were possessed of the necessary qualifications as grad- 

.■i\i->. " This measure," it was pithily added, " will greatly 
' -'htou the labors of the king's attorneys, and especially those 
' ' the prosecutor at the capital, since it will put an end to the 
■■•'iucut seizures of papers. It will also free the government 
••^•:n the annoyance of seeing its actions criticised and eon- 
■ 'Joined through the press. Although in the present state of 

* '•l!r^ nothing is improbable, yet we incline to believe that the 
' =«:':iiet will give a serious consideration to the consequences of 
•*' har-li a measure." The opposition elicited by the mere 
^■''i-'unccnient of the project determined the ministerial party 
' -M.i bring it publicly forward. 

* '»e illiberal character of the legislature was evinced yet 

■^''^ distinctly by the law on mixed marriages, in which the 

^''- 'U^ provisions of the most bigoted edicts on this vexed ques- 

' "^1 ^vere reproduced. " Marriage between a person belonging 

^■"'•Jnii JSEraES, Vol. XV.— 15 

230 The Two Gveeh Eevolutions of 1862. [April, 

to the Eastern Orthodox (Greek) Churcji and one belonging to 
any other Christian religion is valid," says this precious relic of 
medieval exclusivencss, "when celebrated by a priest of the 
Eastern Orthodox Church, if all the prescriptions of the Greek 
law are observed, and if a promise is first made by the bride- 
groom, in the presence of the justice of the peace {eifyrjvodcKrji;) 
of the place in which the marriage is performed, that the cliil- 
dren that may be born of this marriage shall be baptized and 
educated in the Eastern Orthodox religion. The ^dolation of 
this promise is punished according to the 2T0th article of the 
Penal Code." Yainly did the friends of religious equality and 
toleration oppose the law ; it was passed by a large majority in 
spite of the remonstrances of !Mr. Cyriacus, representative of 
the city of Athens, who stigmatized it as repugnant to the spirit of 
the Constitution, and to the principles of the nineteenth century. 

Alarming evidence of the discontent of the people was found 
about the same time in an attempt made by a young student 
named Dosios to assassinate the Queen Amelia, then regent, 
during the absence of her husband. The queen fortunately 
escaped injury, and the would-be mmderer was tried and con- 
demned. His counsel endeavored to prove him insane, but the 
judges took a different view of the case. He himself, at a pre- 
liminary examination, boldly avowed his intention of freeing 
Lis country from tyranny. Scarcely had the felicitations of 
embassadors and higli dignitaries, and the special services in 
the churches in honor of her majesty's deliverance ceased, when 
a new and equally startling disclosure was made. A conspiracy 
had been formed to murder the king, who had now returned. 
and among those implicated were a number of cavalry ofhecrs 
and soldiers. Tliese premonitions could not fail to excite alarm 
in the breasts of Otho and Amelia, for against insubordination 
in the native army they had been without defense, since they 
were compelled in 1S13 to dismiss their Bavarian troops. 

Notwithstanding these and other tokens of an approaching: 
tempest, the government was unable to obtain any intimaticai- 
sufficiently definite to enable it to provide against the stonn- 
Information which has of late reached us, but which never 
found its way into the Athenian press, enables us to assert 
an extensive revolution had been organized, far more extensivij 
than the monarch or his counselors ever imagined possible. 

1SG3.] The Two Greek Bevolutims of 1862. 23 J 

Tiio Iicad and heart of the movement was Athens, from which, 
urt a center, it had spread to all parts of the kingdom. In ■ the 
rai>ital it counted among its adherents many of the most influ- 
fiitiftl citizens, some of whom held high offices in the civil 
ndininistration, as well as in the army and navy. But although 
»-> many were necessarily intrusted with the weighty secret, so 
jicrlect was the organization, and so reliable the confidants, tliat 
no tidings reached the cabinet. Many a poor Athenian pos- 
fcs^ed and kept securely the intelligence which the court would 
liave willingly bought at a high price. Yague rumors were 
imleed ciu"rent, and the police even ventured to make some 
arbitrary arrests ; but all their search was of no avail. Canaris, 
an admiral in the Greek navy, was probably the leader of the 
c-ciispirators. For the outbreak, which was intended to be 
simultaneous throughout the entire country, a day early in the 
mouth of February, 18G2, was chosen. On the evening of that 
(lay a ball was to be given at the palace, at which the king 
and queen, the latter an ai\lent lover of the dance, were to 
aj'pear in public. At an appointed signal the conspirators, 
v.-Jiu had posted themselves near the persons of the royal pair, 
^\ tre to advance, and, interrupting their festivities, hurry them 
I'll* to the port Pirasus, whence a steamer in waiting would con- 
vey them back to the German v, which they oui^ht never to have 
MX. The plan was a bold one, and it would probably have 
'•ovii eflected without the effusion of blood had not one of those 
"}'['arently fortuitous • circumstances occurred which often dis- 
turb the most accurate of human calculations. 

An important point in the eyes of the conspirators was the 
tiiy of Kauplia, situated at the southern end of the rich Argolic 
J'lain, sixty miles distant in a direct line from Athens, but 
I'tarly twice as far by the circuitous route which a steamer 
' take in turning the southern cape of the Argolic penin- 
►iila. Of no great importance in ancient times, except as the 
I^-rt of the celebrated cities of Mycena?, xVrgos, and Tiryns, 
^''ii:li, as was customary at an early period, when piracy uni- 
^'^■"^■^lly prevailed, were built at a considerable distance from 
""- Pou, during the middle ages ]^^'auplia grew at the expense 
'[ Jt^ neighbors. When Greece revolted from the Turks, 
->auplia^ culled by the Italian sailors Xapoli di Komania, 
^■^a^ the most important city of the Peloponnesus. When the 

232 The Two Greek Eevolutlons of 1862. [April, 

claims of various localities to become the permanent capital of 
the new kingdom were made the subject of debate,, there were 
not a few who advocated the selection of ITauplia, which had 
served as the temporary seat of government. iSTothing but the 
prestige of Athens prevented the adoption of Xauplia or Cor- 
inth for this honorable distinction. Besides its convenient situ- 
ation for commercial purposes, the city of which we speak 
possessed a strong fortress, the Palamede, reputed to be tho 
most defensible position in the Peloponnesus, surpassing even 
the famous Acrocorinthus in this particular, since there are no 
great elevations in the nciirhborhood bv which it is commanded. 
The possession of this citadel had indeed made iS'auplia the 
Tcey of Southern Greece. 

For many years the Palamede has been the arsenal of Greece. 
At the beginning of 1SG2 it was said to contain not less than 
fifty thousand stand of arms. There was a large quantity of 
ammunition, and all the siege pieces in Greece were to be found 
within its walls. A great part pf the standing army of the 
kingdom were permanently stationed here to guard the position 
and its important stores. Three thousand men constituted the 
garrison at the date above mentioned. IS'ot only the principal 
officers, but even the subordinates, had entered into the con- 
spiracy ; and it has been remarked that none were more faithful 
than the non-commissioned officers, who on more than one 
occasion during the subsequent difficulties, detecting infidelity 
or cowardice in their superiors, locked them in their rooms, that 
tliey might have no opportunity to damage the common cause. 

The conspirators at Xauplia, in their communications Avith 
the leaders at Athens, had been assisted by an agent of the 
Dutch consulate. Their letters were inclosed by him in envel- 
opes addressed to the consular bureau at the cajjital, and thus 
they passed safely through the post-office, protected by the for- 
eign seal from the prying eyes of the salaried spies, whose 
acquaintance with ordinary letters is reputed to be much too 
intimate. The Dutch consul himself seems to have been 
ignorant of the contents of the correspondence that accompa- 
nied his dispatches. At length intelligence reached the noni- 
arch of Artrolis which satisfied him that letters of a treasonable 
character would be found in the mail then in the post-olnce. 
lie at once ordered its detention; and the police officers had 

1S63.] The Two Greek Bevolutiom of 1862. 233 

executed his commands, wlien the agent of the consul revisited 
tlio office, suspecting that something was amiss, and requested 
his dispatches to be returned. Instead of complying wath his 
request the seal was broken, the letters read, and the names of 
fome of the principal leaders at Athens, as well as of their 
comrades at Kauplia, came to light. The Xauplians saw that 
tlicre was no time to be lost; if they would consult tlieir own 
safety. On the first day of February, Old Style, (the thirteenth, 
New Style,) five or six days before the day previously fixed 
upon for the common movement, the Hellenic army at ]Srauplia 
raised the standard of revolt. Under their commanding offi- 
cers, Botzaris, Grivas, and Artemes, they at once possessed 
themselves of the person of the nomarch, who had been instru- 
mental in their discovery, not without some violence. The 
custom-house and the bank were the first objects of their 
ecarch, and their contents were speedily applied to the support 
of the movement. The mihtary prison was visited, and the 
convicts were not only liberated, but arms were placed in their 
hands, and they went to swell the number of the insurgents. 
At the same time the precaution was taken to secure not only 
the strong fortifications of the citadel, but also the inferior 
works that protect the lower town in the direction of the suburb 
uf Pronia, and the detached castle of Bourdzi, which stands 
upon a rock scarcely rising above the sea. So promptly were 
these measures adopted that if any opposition was entertained 
by the inhabitants of the city, which with its subm-bs may 
contain eight or nine thousand souls, few ventured to give any 
t-xpression to their secret feelings. 

Meanwhile at Athens the intelligence awakened the deepest 
^licitude. The king could not view without emotion the 
<->tablishment of an armed band of rebels in the very city 
wliere twenty-nine years before, on the 6th of February, 1833, 
lie had stepped for the first time upon Grecian soil. Appre- 
iiensions were entertained lest the insurrection at iSTauplia 
Jiiight prove to be only a part of a preconcerted movement 
<-'-\teuding over the entire country. It was not, therefore, with- 
out great relief that telegraphic dispatches from Argos, Patras, 
*"finiia, and other prominent localities, annountftd the main- 
tenance of good order, and a general repudiation of the attempt 
<>f the rebels. At Athens itself quiet ruled, and the citizens 

234 The Two Greek Revolutions of 1862. [April, 

devoted themselves to tlieir usual pursuits, with the exception 
of a few ever ready to take advantage of any novelty to indulge 
in idleness. The legislative bodies were summoned to an 
extraordinary session, and at once took occasion to express in 
strong terms their condemnation of the revolution, and their 
readiness to afford the government all needed aid and support. 
At the same time the government ordered the arrest of liftecn 
or twenty Athenians of various professions, whose names are 
given in the Greek journals. They seem subsequently to have 
"been as summarily released ; and from tliis circumstance we 
may be warranted in inferring that the grounds of their 
imprisonment were discovered to be frivolous. At least no 
charge was preferred against them that could be substantiated 
before a court of hiw. 

As intelligence began to come in from those parts of the 
kingdom which were in less close communication with the 
capital, it was found that nowhere had the insurrection mani- 
fested itself outside of Xauplia, save in the town of Tripolis, or 
as it is named upon our maps, Tripolitza, the capital of Arcadia, 
the central nomc of Peloponnesus. Here the leaders endeav- 
ored to stroiigtheii their cause by giWng it the sanction oi 
religion. The Archbishop of Mantinea was induced to take an 
active part in encouraging the rebels, if indeed he was not 
originally one of the chief conspirators. IS'ot only did he 
sprinkle the band with consecrated water, and administer to 
them the oath of hdelity to one another, but he was so bold as 
to deliver a sermon or address full of comfort to those who 
had espoused the desperate cause. Only a few months had 
elapsed since this prelate had revealed his true character indif- 
ferently well. An agent of the IBritish and Foreign Bible 
Society visiting Arcadia, had.felt the liveliest pity for the. poor 
prisoners confined in the jail of Tripolitza, and destitute of 
religious instruction, -as Avell as of anything to counteract the 
debasing inilucncc of vicious associates. He therefore distrib- 
uted among the prisoners a number of Bibles and ISTew Testa- 
ments in the modern Greek. On hearing of this benevolent 
donation, the Archbishop of Mantinea, instead of testifying 
satisfaction ^t so Cliristian an act, exercised his authority as 
diocesan, and caused the ^Vord of God to be taken away from 
these poor souls who were famishing for spiritual food. Thi-^ 

1SG3.] The Two Greek Revolutions of 1862. 935 

heathenish conrse was violently criticised by thinking men, but 
it received no notice from the government, which soon after 
discovered this prelate's un worthiness, as evinced in bis abet- 
tliig the rebellion. But whether the insurgents did not meet 
ill Tripolitza with the support they anticipated, or whether the 
j.o^'tion was too exposed to be deemed tenable, certain it is 
I hat they were compelled, after seizing upon the public treas- 
ury, to evacuate the town and retreat in the direction of Sparta 
and Messenia. Xot long after, finding their efibrts fruitless, 
and their number diminished by desertions, they sent for one 
of the national officers of a village near which they were, and 
after voluntarily surrendering to him the public property they 
had seized, quietly dispersed and returned to their homes. 

The first military movements of the royal forces seem not to 
have been attended with mucb success. A considerable body 
of infantry and artillery, drawn together from various points, 
was concentrated near Corinth, and hurried forward to the 
narrow pass of Dervenakia, where the road from Corinth to 
the Argolic plain finds its way through the mountain range 
wliich further to the east spreads over the entire Argolic penin- 
f ula. It was the possession of this difficult pass wliich in 1S22 
tliabled the Greek patriots to overwhelm the numerous army 
of Drami Al\ Pasha. • The royal generals were consequently 
anxious to become masters of it, and in this attempt they were 
puecessful. The Argive to whom the insm-gents had intrusted 
the task of organizing a band and defending the pass proved a 
coward, and hid himself in a neighboring vineyard, whence he 
^vas drawn out and imprisoned by the Xauplians. But on 
Kessing forward the royal army fell into an ambuscade in the 
immediate \acinity of the ruins of ancient Tirjms. The pros- 
K'ct of the sea-shore is here cut off from the main road by a 
growth of reeds and other marsh plants. Under cover of these 
the insurgents had placed floating batteries in a position to 
o^-»nimand the road ; and scarcely had the royal troops made 
their appearance before the vegetation disappeared, as if by 
magic, and a murderous fire opened on their llauk. Tlic loss 
<jf the army from this unexpected attack was reported by the 
government organs to be two killed and twelve vrounded. It 
^as subsequently shown that it ought to have been stated at 
more than one hundred. 

236 The Two Greek Revolutions of 1S62. [April, 

A few weeks elapsed, em])racii]g the latter part of the montli 
of February, during wiiicli the operations before Xauplia were 
unimportant. Indications of feeling unfavorable to the govern- 
n^ent appeared at Athens, where disturbances took place at the 
university and the gymnasia, and a number of shopkeepers 
suddenly closed their shops, alleging that as no business was 
done it M-as useless for them to keep them open. The shop- 
keepers were forced by the police, who saw in the steps adopted 
some secret design, to reopen their establishments, even if they 
sold nothing. And the students were punished by the pro- 
mulgation of an order from the minister of public instruction, 
suspending the exercises of the institutions for a period of several 
months, an arrangement by which all but the most industrious 
were delayed fully one year in their studies. "Within a few 
weeks the gymnasium of Fatras was likewise closed, apparently 
for the same cause. Evidently the government looked with 
suspicion on the body of students gathered in these institutions, 
perhaps fearing lest in the bosom of this excitable and enthu- 
siastic class there might arise some more significant movement, 
giving to the revolution a definite aim and a more lasting 
impulse. The Athenians were forbidden their eustomaij 
carnival festivities, for the disguises so essential to the unre-' 
strictcd license of this season were altogether prohibited. Xor 
were more than two persons allowed to walk the streets in 
company. At the same time the influence of the clergy was 
invoked to restore quiet throughout the land. The "Holy 
Sjmod'' published an encyclic letter, in which both clergy and 
laity were enjoined to give due submission and obedience to 
the king and to the laws of the state. 

Meanwhile the rebel leaders, although disappointed at find- 
ing that their cause was espoused by few outside of tlie walls 
of Xauplia, prepared to make a vigorous resistance to the royal 
troops, now encamped in the immediate neighborhood, vrhile 
continuing to kindle the flame of revolt elsewhere. For this 
pui-pose they had, at tlio very commencement of their struggle, 
addressed to tlieir countrymen a proclamation, now for the first 
time published by the loyal i);ipers of the realm. Tlie glories 
attaching to tlie 25th of March, the anniversary of the out- 
break of the revolution which emancipated Greece from Turk 
ish rule, were rehearsed and contrasted with those that belonged 

1 S03.] The Two GreeTc Revolutiom of 1862. " 237 

u tl.e 3il of September, 1843, which beheld the establishment 
of constitutional government. But neither of these critical 
.lavs was more deserving of everlasting remembrance than the 
M ol February, when the country was saved from the suffocatincr 
finbraec of '' a system whose emblem was lawlessness and treason" 
u .v.tem of slavery and degradation." •'' Heroic Xauplia," added 
tl.e document in enthusiastic language, '-'under the leadership 
..f heroes, m conjunction with its brave garrison, and with the 
tull concurrence of the citizens, first seized its arms, and first 
struck a fatal blow at that system, nnfm-ling the standard of 
freedom, on which appear, inscribed in golden letters, these three 
l-nneiples capable of saving the nation : 1. The tall of the sys 
torn hitherto observed, and the proclamation of a new svstem 
^:^->suring the freedom of the people, and the application of the fullowmg principles. 2. The dissolution of the present 
;-i.ncil (Chamber of Deputies) established by violent measures. 
»J. liie convocation of a national convention promising the 
n-'covery by the nation of its liberties, which have been trodden 
I ""tl '?^^ ^^^° fulfillment of all our noble and national lono- 
'-'i:^. Ihis declaration of the objects contemplated by the 
rv-volution was signed by eleven of the most prominent leaders, 
-^ong whom were Zapheiro^^oulos and Peter Mauromichale^! 
A ducument accompanied it, in which the authorities of the 
t of ^aupha indorsed the action of the army, and boasted 

V ' lo ;'• T"-'^'''' ^^ S"''^ °^^^'^ ^^'^ ^^^^^ undisturbed, 
• -It private rights and property were ampl v respected. 

•: ,1 'fr ?''^''^ "'^'^^^^ "" ^^^^^^" ^^^'^^^ to the Greek 
i Jo L T ^'l^^f ^"o tlie treachery of men for whom the 

...■'hi T """^^ -""^ ^^" x^^^ym<,,\ honor of a soldier 
^;.ht to 1,,^ j^j^^^^ ^^ ^^^^.^^, ^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ _^^^ ^^ 

J.- r na ,ve land the most hateful of all anarchy, military hJ ; ? '"T'^''^ '*^*'' ^^^t t^e ^ee^ll'^1 steps have 
_.n taken to bring the revolt to a speedy conclusion. In the 

<^'.r.C.i;n T ^^'''^'^^^^^ circumstances, nothing could be more 

• r roJ ' ?• f ^^ universal reprobation with which the tidings 

J^.o hon had been met at the hands of all classes of the 

''^••-nti ed V V^r^^- ^l ^^™-^^^ 1"-^ -^l>Jects that he has 
i^a his fortunes TMth theirs, since their future is also his 

238 The Two Greek Eevolutions of 1S62. [April, 

own. It -was for tlieir sakes tliat lie left his own land, lii^ 
parents and other relatives, a quiet and undisturbed life ; fur 
he had from the beginning recognized the fact that a noble 
future was in reserve for Greece. By their conduct the Greeks 
had sho^vn that, duly estimating these sacrifices, they sought 
the prosperity of their country only in the exercise of justice 
and the pperation of the Constitution of the realm. He there- 
fore exhorted them to remain steadfast in that mutual conii- 
dence in and love of the throne, to which they were indissolu- 
bly bound by the oaths of 1833 and l^U. " To the addrc^s 
were appended, below the signature of Otho, the names of all 
the members of the cabinet : Coundouriotes, Botsares, Simos, 
Botles, and Christoponlos. It was everywhere read, and by 
some its assuraTices of solicitude for the common welfare were 
welcomed. The greater number of readers, however, we may 
well suppose, were not disposed to rate very highly the sacrifices 
which an unapjmnaged younger son of the king of Bavaria luvl 
made in consenting to accept the regal crown of Greece, and 
thought perhaps that the profuse expenditures of the palace, 
when viewed in connection with the neglect of public improve- 
ments, failed to confirm that extreme devotion to the national 
weal of which an exhibition was so ostentatiously made. 
Others, if disposed to be more censorious, suggested that the 
repeated reference to civic and military oaths was scarcely 
seemly in the mouth of a monarch whose entire policy had 
been an undisguised hostility toward the form of government 
lie had solemnly sworn to uphold. 

A royal ordinance, published two days before the addrcs?, 
promised amnesty to all soldiers M'ho, previous to the cuin- 
mencement of the actual bombardment of JSTauplia, should lav 
down their arms. It was also extended to non-commissioned 
officers who could prove that their participation in the re vol i 
had been compulsory or the result of no premeditation. 'What 
was the efiect of the proclamation does not appear. Indeed, the 
universal comjdaint of the press was that the public was kept in 
ignorance of events that were transpiring in and around iS'aui»li:'>- 

At length, everything having been made ready for an assauU 
on the positions held by the rebels, a general attack was made 
on the 1st of ]^rarch, just one month after the outbreak of th'' 
rebellion. On all points the attack was successful, althout;!^ 

IS03.3 The Two Greek Eevolutims of 1862. 239 

•iic atl vantage was not gained without great effusion of blood. 
Kir-t the little hamlet of Areia was earned, a position two 
j:ii!.s eastward of Xauplia, on the same rocky ridge, the posses- 
>;.>n of which was of great importance, as it contains the springs 
w hence the water is brought by an aqueduct to the city. A 
l.fjirht crowned by a mill known as that of Tambacopoulos was 
XaVkiw about the same time. IN'ext the assailants directed their 
riT'jrts against the suburb of Pronia, close to the gates of the city. 
Hore a more determined resistance was experienced, but before 
tho close of the day Pronia was added to the positions that 
remained in the hands of the royal troops. In these several 
cniragements a considerable number of prisoners were taken, 
iriu>ng whom were several officers, Lieut. Gom-goures, Coronaeus, 
?.n«l others. Six cannon and some 'ammunition also fell into 
t!ii' liands of the royalists. But the victory was purchased at a 
• •-tly sacrifice of Kfe. Five or six hundi-ed were counted 
auii^ng the fallen. Tlie attack had been skillfully planned and 
fiithfully executed by the commanding general, Chan. This 
|T..iiiinent pliilhellene, a Swiss by birth, who after serving in 
'<':■■>: revolution had settled in Greece, and risen to the rank of 
iiiajor-general in the Greek army, had been ordered by Otho to 
t^n.iortake the suppression of the rebellion. At first he declined 
■«•.•-• odious task, alleging that it was for no such purposes that 
-<> had come to the land of his adoption. But the king assumed 
•'le responsibility, and reminded him of that subordination which 
i» the first of military virtues. With great reluctance the gen- 
< '■'il .yielded ; but at the conclusion of the campaign he retired 
'•'"Ml a country where he had been made the unwilling instru- 
•"'-•''it of the shedding of the blood of citizens by citizens, and 
^"•'t'.'ok himself once more to his native hills. 

Notwithstanding this great success, but little progress had 
-"-^•n made toward the reduction of Xauplia. It is true that it 
" '-- now invested both by land and sea ; but the fortress was 
a*!iu..-.t impregnable, and, what was of more consequence, the 
'•■-^irgonts liad an abundance of artillery and ammunition, while 

-'' r"y;i.l|j;ts were altogether unprovided with siege pieces, all 

"■' ''^ tiie government owned having fallen into the possession of 

V-"' '■^■^'t.'ls, together with the arsenal. It was evident that 

•'■'I'lia could be gained for the royal cause only by a long and 

" "'U.s blockade or by sm-render on advantageous terms. A 

240 The Two Greek Revolutions of 1862. [April. 

^tnice for five days was agreed upon between the garrison of 
JSTanplia and the besieging force, and this was the end of active 
operations. At the termination of this truce a new truce f< .1- 
lowed, and then a series of armistices were entered into. 

Meanwhile another insurrection, or rather another part of the 
same general plan of revolt which had been disconcerted bv t\ui 
premature disclosure of the plot and outbreak at ]^aupli:i. 
• revealed itself among the Cyclades. The small garrison cif 
Syra or Hermoupolis, the most important commercial port o'i 
Greece, raised the standard of the revolution about the first dav 
of March, (Old Style.) The local government indorsed the move- 
ment, but afterward disowned its action, as having been the 
result of constraint. The sokliers, numbering about one hund- 
red and fifty men, seized one of the best vessels belonging tu 
the Greek steamship company, and steamed first to the islaii<l 
of Tenos, wliere, after a delay which eventually proved fatal tw 
their cause, they took on board another small detachment of 
troops animated by the same sentiments. They were under 
the command of a skillful ofliicer, Leoutzakos by name, who in 
1854 had been governor of Lamia, and had twice defeated the 
Turks in the plains of Thessaly. It was his plan, after gatherin- 
all the troops M-houi he could muster on the islands of the J^gcan. 
to sail to Ghalcis, on the island of Eubcea. Having released 
all the prisoners in the public prison, and thus swelled his force, 
he was to cross the bridge to the mainland and march througli 
Boeotia, or transport himself and his followers to Marathon and 
take a more direct route to Athens, where his confederates awaited 
him, ready to take up arms at his approach. But the want cf 
readiness of the Teniots delayed the steamer so long tluit 
scarcely had it reached the island of Cythnus, its next stopping' 
place, when the royal corvette "Amalia" made its appear- 
ance in pursuit. As it arrived Leoutzakos, who had hastily 
thrown up a breastwork on the shore, and might easily have 
destroyed the royalists in their open boats, ordered his soldiers 
not to fire, and made signals of his desire to address tlie 
approaching party. He was standing on the breastwork about 
to speak, when Chrysp verges and Tsiros, in connnand of th^ 
royalists, ordered their men to fire. Leoutzakos fell pierced 
with several balls; many of his followers shared his fate, the 
rest were made prisoners, and the plan fiiiled. The brutal 

:S03.1 The Tioo Greek Revolutions of 1862. 241 

Chrv.-^-tvcrgas expressed his unwillingness to give the corpse of 
t!!«'V;ilIen officer a place on the Amalia as it returned to Ath- 
r!>.. Placed, naked, we believe, in a little open boat, it was 
tr»iit'd after the steamer, while the insolent victors vented upon 
;*.-• dead man their reproaches and contumely. The comman- 
>:.;!ii had even the hardihood to boast at Atliens of the exploit, 
5::.l nearly paid the price of his audacity ; for a relative of 
Ix'tutsakos attempted to- avenge his murder, and was only 
hiii.lrred by the interference of other persons who happened to 
V- i»resent. And even after the flames of civil war had been 
rvtinguished, when Chrysoverges had occasion to land at 
Nuuplia, for the purpose of visiting friends at xirgos, he was 
■r.ct at the wharf by an indignant crowd of three thousand per- 
j-.!i-, who hissed and cursed him as a murderer,^ and pelted him 
vitli the most disgusting substances. Xot a carriage driver 
v^..uld consent to carry him to Argos ; with difliculty could he 
Jhul a seat in a rough cart. 

Tlio time for an accommodation was now evidently drawing 
'''z\\. On the one hand, the insurgents had beheld the failure 
' flhi-ir attempts to elicit the co-operation of the other portions 
• r (ircece. A new effort might be crowned with success, if 
r,iri.-t'iilly planned and executed simultaneously tliroughout the 
•-liiitry ; but tlie lailure of the present imdertaking was iuevi- 
•iMe. On tlie other hand, the government had no means for 
\\-.<i reduction of Xauplia, and could aftord to purchase the sub- 
sui-sion of tlie rebels at the cost of a few concessions. The 
'.<nns of the proclamation of amnesty were gradually extended 
^'V tuinouncements issued during the latter part of the month 
• : ^[:irch. Many of the families of Xauplia were allowed by 
-til parties to leave the rebel lines. Finally the insurgents 
■ :'-onted to surrender the place on condition that the amnesty 
''^••uld be extended to all excepting certain leaders, a list of 
■■'""se names was made; and the government pledged itselt to 
'''■■•.• t'oroign embassadors to carry into efiect those reforms which 
• ••' Xauplians had demanded in their programme. On this 
'-i-i-» an agreement was made ; and on Easter Sunday, April S, 
J'l.l Style^, (20th, Xew Style,) 1SG2, the rebellion, which had 
■"-^'el nearly seventy days, was terminated. The leaders, and 
"'-»ny of their followers, embarked on an English and a French 
^'•■:jnier that lay waiting for them in the Argulic gulf, and soon 

242 The Two Greek S&volutions of 1862. [April, 

reached Smyrna. Three of their number, among them die 
coward who had been appointed to guard the pass of Dervenaki;i, 
1»eiiig in disagreement with their comrades, proceeded fn«i:i 
iSmyrna to Italy. The royal troops re-entered Nauplia throuL^li 
those ancient and curious gates on whose portals is yet to bo 
fccn the winged lion, of St. Mark's, the emblem of the fonner 
supremacy of the Yenetian republic. The blockade of the 
Argolic gulf was removed. The tidings of the restoration of 
peace were carried to every part of Europe on the telegraphic 
wires, and the congratulations of the Lord Commissioner of the 
Ionian Isles and of other rulers came back in quick response. 

A wise monarch and cabinet would have viewed such an 
opportunity as that now presented as one of those critical junc- 
tures which, if improved, may lead to firm and solid peace, but 
which, neglected, are forever irretrievably lost. The rebellion 
had made a clear and unmistakable revelation of the extent of 
the prevailing discontent. N"o class of the population were 
free from dissatisfaction. Even the soldiery, upon whom Otho 
liad reposed unquestioning confidence, had proved disaftectcd. 
They had been ringleaders in the revolt. Xor were the 
causes which had led to the revolt disguised. The govern- 
ment had been distinctly informed that it was the deliberate 
ignoring of the people, the attempt to deprive tlie public of all 
participation in the afi"airs of state, the utter disregard of con- 
stitutional prescriptions and of the common welfare, which had 
alienated the great mass of the Greek people. And the lesson 
which the revolution was intended to communicate ought to 
have been no less salutary, because of its failure through a want 
of concert aniong its originators. It would have been easy for 
the monarch, by the adoption of wise and sufiiciently radical 
reforms, to have precluded the possibility of a repetition of the 
attempt, and to have acquired such a hold upon the afiections 
of his people as might have secured his crown to his success- 
ors for several generations. Kone of his previous derelictions 
— the sad record of nearly an entire generation — would have 
dimmed his future glory; so forgiving is the -people whom 
recent favors blind to ancient WTongs. Was this the record 
of the Bavarian Otho ? 

The king in his boyhood had becA intended for a cardinal 
of the Koman Church. A casual sugo;estlon, and the election 

lsG3.1 The Two Greek Eevolutioiis of 1862. 243 

».v the protecting powers of Europe, diverted liim from an 
ft-closiastical career, and lie exchanged the prospect of a crim- 
►..u cap for the reality of a regal crown. But the principles 
which Jesuit tutors had inculcated he could never forget. It 
was no intention of his to fulfill the promises of reform which 
1)0 had made ; and the proofs of this were soon to he seen. 

The revolution had exhibited the paramount necessity of 
til-.' organization of a national guard. The legislative bodies 
>vcre summoned to take this matter into consideration, and 
lifter several postponements of the opening of their sessions, 
tlioy commenced their deliberations. Meanwhile the ministry 
vi Miaoulis fell ; and after the portfolio had been offered to 
^^r. Tricoupis, whose demands the king could not bring him- 
frlf to admit, Mr. Colocotronis, formerly master of ceremonies, 
was intrusted with the formation of a new cabinet. IIow 
i;i'!ieral and how thorough was the detestation in which the 
outgoing ministers were held, may be inferred from a single 
incident. The Minister of Justice and Education, Mr. Potles, a 
I'crrion of gentlemanly manners and pleasing address, had been 
a lawyer before taking his seat in the cabinet. Xo sooner was 
his resiirnation of office tendered, than the Athenian association 
<'f lawyers expelled him from their society. Similar marks of 
•lisapproval awaited other tools of the king. 

In the Chamber of Deputies the law respecting the new 
.Vational Guard was made the subject of violent discussion. 
<hi the one hand, all true patriots endeavored to secure to the 
members of the guard themselves the selection of all the ofiicers. 
<hi the other hand, the party which was headed by both the 
'•ito and the jjresent ministers proposed to place the unre- 
^tncted right of nominating them in the hands of the king, 
linally there was a partial compromise adopted, which pro- 
vided that from four candidates elected by the guard the king 
should select one. The determination of the government to 
K-cure the passage of the bill we cannot but regard as most 
ill-advised. It eonviwed the people that Otho was determined 
l'» be guided, as heretofore, by a policy dictated by Austria and 
I 'iivaria ; a.policy that denied to the people all control of the 
tuilitary, as well as of the civil administration. For could not 
•lie king always count upon finding at least one out of the four 
candidates entirely subservient to his purposes? "The Cham- 

244 The Two Oreeh Eevoluiians of 1862. [April, 

ber of Deputies of Greece," said one journal, " has thus, in open 
day, granted to the executive a right belonging exclusively to 
the people. ^Ve devoutly pray that this instrument may never 
be turned against the people itself, from whose hands it has 
been so dextrously snatched." As a matter of necessity the 
bill, which had passed the lower House, was hurried througli 
the Senate, composed of the nominees of the king, and in 
August the law ^vas formally signed by Otho. At that very 
moment the Minister of Justice, Mr. Eliopoulos, chose to give 
a new token of his zeal to outdo all previous ministers in devo- 
tion to the " system," under which term the Athenians have 
been wont of late to designate the unconstitutional and retro- 
grade tendencies of the partisans of the court. He gave to the 
police and other authorities of justice the power of unsealing 
and reading the private letters sent through the mail, an act 
expressly forbidden by the Constitution. But this was a draught 
too bitter even for the Senate, which had so proniptly swallowed 
the law on the Xational Guard. A violent discussion ensued, 
and the minister was compelled to admit the illegality of his 
instructions, with the secret intention, we have no doubt, of 
nevertheless carrying them more privately into practice, and 
the Senate entered upon its records this minute : "AVhereas the 
Minister of Justice has publicly acknowledged that the docu- 
ment Xo. 5,295, of June 30 of the present year, has no 
official force, and conveys no obligation for its application, the 
Senate, satisfied with this confession, ceases from all further 

We come now to a fresh scene in the revolutionary drama. 
Quiet had for months been restored throughout the kingdom. 
The civil commotions, like angry waves after the tempest has 
censed, had gradually subsided, and a season of undisturbed 
calm seemed about to succeed. So at least thought -the court, 
fur the king and queen regarded it as a favorable opportunity for 
making a pleasure trip, and at tlic same time conciliating favor 
by visiting some of the provincial cities. • On Wednesday, the 
od of October, Old Style. (i5th, Xcw Style,) the royal party left 
Piraeus in the steamer " Amalia," intending to touck at various 
points on the coast of Peloponnesus, as well as at some of the 
islands. They carried with them, it is said, not a few eccle- 
Biastical ornaments, intended as presents for the churches they 

r.;i] The Two areeh Revolutions of 18G2. 245 

, ■,;Jit vir-it, Tliey had not been absent niany dav3 before 
■ a> Tl iiM t iiitell igence reached them, as the " Amalia " lay before 
('i!:i!ii:ita in the ilessenian gulf. On Monday, the 7th oi 
tK toiler, the news of a fresh insiuTection was received at 
Athfiis. It had broken out in the garrison at Bonitza in 
.\. ..niauia, a town on the Ambracian gulf, and, therefore, in 
t! •• fxtreine west of continental Greece. In rapid succession 
. ..'.i.c telegrams announcing its spread to Missilonghi, and along 
I- ill >hores of the Corinthian gulf. On AYednesday the 10th, 
...'.'d, Xcw Style,) it was known by all the initiated that the 
« uthreuk was to take place in the capital. But the day passed 
-jiii'tly away, and it was not until an hour before midnight 
\\\\\\ tlie signal was given by the firing of a musket. Soon the 
<'.\\ was in commotion ; bodies of armed citizens appeared in 
-•i'l the streets. They massed in the public squares, especially 
'.;.!»i in front of the palace, where the garrison of probably 
a! -out three thousand men were called out to oppose them. At 
!'r-t no symptom of disaffection appeared among the troops; 
t; I'v M-ere only waiting to bo convinced that the movement 
v.:i-i conducted by competent leaders. Most of the fighting 
■•"'k jilace in the vicinity of the Polytechnic School, and on 
'•'•'• street of ^EoJus, one of the chief thoroughfares. But few 
■•• n- killed ; it is said three of the gendarmes and two of the 
< !':/.eiis. The gendarmes were the only troops that remained 
«*'a-ltast. A spectator thus describes the concluding scene, 
■■* :.<n the troops began to yield to the popular movement : 
"Almost the entire garrison of Athens was quartered in the 
^•,':;tre before Mr, 's house, and as I was very anxious to bo 

• 'ye-witness of part of the atl'uir at least, I spent the night 
=»' i;is house, looking down upon the scene below me from one 
' ' >'<ie windows. It was capital fun to see a portion of the 
'*•> 'j'> scamper off and join the citizens about one o'clock in 
'•'•'* morning, wl)ich was followed by great cheering in the 
' ' ; Jdjorliood of the royal stables. In half an hour's time after 
• •'• event tliere was not a man left on the square; cavalry, 
■ ''!'try, and artillery, all were gone! The gendarmes, seeing 

•'' :dl was over, took refuge in the palace, where they remained 
•'•[ Jiii.rning, and then surrendered." 

*^Ih' revolution was successful. Country and capital had 
''~*ii and sliaken off the yoke of slavery. Xothiug remained 

i'otRiu Series. Vol. xV.— 16 

246 The Two Greek Revolutions of 1862. [Aprfl, 

bnt for the ministry of Colocotronis to resign, which they dij 
the same morning at about two o'clock. Meanwhile the insur- 
gents had not waited for that event, but had at once published 
the following document : 


The suflevings of our native land have ceased. AH the prov- 
inces and the capital, in union witli the army, have put an end to 
them. As the common determination of the entire Greek nation, 
it is announced and decreed : 

The kingly rule of Otho is annulled. The regency of Amelia 
is annulled. A provisional government, to govern the realm until 
the convocation of the National Assembly is established, consisting 
of the following citizens : Demetrius Boulgares, President ; Cou- 
stantine Canares and Benizelos Roufos. 

A national assembly will be called immediately for the forma- 
tion of the form of government and the choice of a ruler. Vive 
the nation ! Vive the fatherland ! 

Done m the year of salvation 1862, the tenth day of October. 

This decree was prefaced in the public prints by such edi- 
torial e-xpretsions as these : " Fellow-citizens ! after a thirty years' 
contest, and after the greatest sacrifices, the Greek nation has 

' arisen against tlie tyranny of the Bavarian, Otho '^itelsbach, 
and is now ^yqq I'' 

The king and queen, informed of the revolt at Bonitza and 

' of its spread through western Greece, had turned their faces 
homeward. But the overthrow of the government had been 
eflected before they reached Athens. Finding Piraeus in the 
hands of the people, the " Amalia " dropped down toward Salamis ; 
but on liearing further details regarding the complete success ol 
the revolution, the king gave orders to leave the anchorage. 
Heanwhile the very officers and sailors of the sole vessel at the 
king's command had been infected with the prevailing contagion. 
The firemen had extinguished the fire ; the engineers declared 
the machinery to be out of order. There was no alternative 
left but surrender, or escape to some friendly ship. Beluctantly 
the royal fomily embraced the latter course. " The tyrant and 
blood-stained Otho, with his abominable wife Amelia, embarked, 
weeping and wailing like children, in the English steauK-r 
Scylla." Such was the language in which the outraged public 
expressed its long pent-up indignation at the wrongs it IkvI 
snilered. At nine o'clock in the evening of October 12tli, 

ISC.3.] The Two Greek Eevolutims of 1862. 247 

(:Mth, New Style,) 1862, the late king, with his consort, was on 
\iU way for Trieste, there to resign the crown in favor of his 
vuunger brother. 

The change had been effected with little bloodshed. It was 
a providential circumstance that the king and queen were 
al.rciit on their tour around Peloponnesus; for the plan of the 
revolution had been formed irrespec^tive of their movements, 
Riid had tliey been in Athens we can well imagine that the issue 
tuight have been much more sanguinary. No one had dreamed 
liiat the detestation of the people for the late monarch was so 
p.'neral. All joined in the execrations of his memory. The 
busts and statues which had been so lavishly erected in the 
•^jnares and gardens were thro\vii do-^Ti. The king's crown 
wa> destroyed. Even the names of streets and buildings, which 
recalled his rule, were summarily changed. The University/ 
<•/ Oilio became the Grecian University. The palace, it was 
•suggested, must be converted into a great national museum.^ 
The police, the instruments of tyranny, were, disbanded, and 
tlicir places were assumed by a home guard, consisting .chiefly 
• r exclusively of students. Their services were needed. Some 
inir(.Tcants, taking advantage of the general confusion, broke 
itito houses during the night of the ensuing Friday. They were 
(.aught after a determined resistance, and eight were sentenced 
to be shot at four o'clock on the next day upon the public 
^juare of Concord, the late square oi- Otho. 

The new provisional government was speedily organized, 
wul in the presence of the new metropolitan of Athens swore to 
W'Jisult the interests of the Greek people. It was headed by a 
-■•an whose antecedents rendered him deserving of the position. 
iJoulgares was a faithful and consistent friend of liberty, a 
"^^"rthy compeer of the aged Alavrocordatos and of Tricoupes, 
J'e had, only a few weeks before, introduced into the Senate, 

• Among other tokens of tlie imi%-ersal desire of all classes of the population to 
^^troj every trace of their late servitude, not the least amusing was the wish of 
"-■' •« unfortunate individuals who had hitherto borne the narnd of Otho to divest 
'^''I'M-lves of the unpatriotic appellaciou. In a note addressed to the editor of a 
) -rardof the 3d of Xovember, Mr. Catsoulieres says: "I beg you to insert in your 

i< riuinber, for the informa^tion of my friends, that having heretofore borne the 
*-*^ie of Otho, I now change it to Odysseus, (Ulysses.) I accordingly announce 
•-»t I Rhall allow no one to address me by my former name, which recalls to the 
^^^ of every Greek years of base slavery and tyranny." 

248 The Two Greek Bcvolutior.s of 1S62. [April, 

and spoken in favor of a petition from Greeks of Galatz. in 
Moldavia, praying for a change in the policy of the govern- 
ment, and after a violent debate had secured its insertion in the 
records of that branch of the legislature. He selected as his 
cabinet : T. Manghinas, Th. A. Zaimes, A. Coumoundoaros, 
D. Marromichales, E. Delegeorges, D. Calliphronas, B. ^S'ico- 
lopoulos, and A. Diamantopoulos ; filling respectively the 
departments of Finance, Interior, Justice, '^IVar, Public Instruc- 
tion, Xav^-, Ecclesiastical, and Foreign Affairs. These gentlernca 
followed the example of the provisional government in taking 
a solemn oath to suj>port the laws of the realm and the pro- 
visional government, and conscientiously to fulfill their duties. 
The selection of ministers was not unexceptionable. It is tu 
be regretted that some of the nominees were men destitute of 
the requisite attainments ; while against !Mr. Xicolopoulo.- 
placed at the head of the department of religion, can be urge: 
the unpardonable offense against justice, of having been the 
presiding judge in the iniquitous trial of Hev. .Jonas Eing, D.D.. 
in 1S52. Of one whose entire deportment on that occasion 
was dictated by fanaticism or worse motives ; whose examina- 
tion of witnesses was by no means impartial : whose verdict 
was in flagrant defiance of the entire testimony, and who addcJ 
to all a falsilication of the record of the case, it cannot be 
expected that he will carry liberal sentiments into his new and 
responsible office. ■• 

^ith the successful establishment of the provisional govcn:- 
ment. the history of the revolution properly ends. An unwor- 
thy monarch, who for nearly thirty years had abused the trust 
reposed in him by those who elected him to sway the destinies 
of Greece, who squandered on his own pleasures, or laid up 
for his future use, the scanty revenues of a nation just emerg- 
ing from an exhausting war of independence, who not only 
neglected public improvements, but systematically corrupted 
all upon whom the court could exert an influence, was at last, 
alter eight or nine unavailing insurrections, driven ignomin- 
iously from the land. The mendacious proclamation which ho 
wrote from Salamis, attributing his retirement to Genuany to 
his desire to avoid the effusion of blood,- and, in an excess ol 
effrontery, asserting that " abstaining Irom all display, he had 
cared onlv for the true interests of Greece, seeking with all h:s 

1SC3.] The Two Greek Bevoluticms of 1862. 249 

jKtwcr to advance its material and moral development, and 
..'iving especial stiidv to tlie impartial administration of justice," 
\v:is received vritli contempt bv those y^\\Q knew that no words 
could have given a more false description of his whole life. 

Meanwhile the entire population of Greece seemed to unite 
in u common ptean for the triumph of its liberties. The exiled 
heroes of Xauplia, who had resisted single-handed the generals 
of Otho, returned from their wanderings, and were received 
with acclamations by the excitable populace. Coronseus, 
r-pcciallv, was the object of a popular ovation. On the other 
liand, Botzares, Potles, and Simos, members of the Miaoules 
ministry, which had rendered itself peculiarly obnoxious, were 
bidden by the government to leave the country; and Spiro- 
^Nfclios and Colocotrones, of the last ministry, received a similar 
crder. In taking this course, the government merely adopted 
u measure of necessity in the critical posture of affairs. It was 
fnd that among the names of such " dangerous citizens " should 
be found that of the unworthy son of that Marco Botzares 
whom the verses of our own Ilalleck have immortalized. 

The personal effects of the deposed monarch were delivered 
by the Greeks to the embassador of Bavaria, appointed by 
Otlio to receive them ; but they, very properly, refused to allow 
Iiim to remove the correspondence of that prince, regarding it 
11--1 an important source of information respecting the means 
i-mployed for the degradation of Greece. They declined even 
the proposition to allow it to be placed under seal. 

The joy of the inhabitants of Greece was shared in equal 
'ii'-'asure by all those of the same race in the Ionian Isles, in 
Turkey, in southern Russia, in x\.ustria, and in western Europe ; 
but the most signal instances of self-denial in behalf of the 
i:»therland were exhibited by tlie natives of the late kingdom. 
All classes showed the greatest alacrity in offering a portion 
'jf their property to relieve the necessities of the new govern- 
luout. The judges of the Court of Areopagus, the highest 
tribunal in Greece, the officials connected with the navy 
<i'-partment, tlie professors of the University, and some eccle- 
f iiiftics, are particularly mentioned as having voluntarily come 
Surward to devote a part (generally the third or quarter) of 
•heir income to the support of the country. 

But here wo must terminate our sketch of the two Greek 

250 Bowla/nd Hill. [April, 

revolutions of 1862. The Bavarian dynasty, so inauspicious 
to the happiness of Greece, lias been deposed, never, as we may 
hope, again to curse that land. "Will the experience of the last 
thirty years satisfy the great powers of Europe of the imprac- 
ticability of all attempts to impose on the Greeks a monarch 
of their selection, however badly qualified to perform the most 
difficult of all tasks, that of elevating a nation long debased 
by the oppression of tyrannical rulers ? "Will they sufier the 
million of Greeks to choose Prince Alfred of England, or the 
Duke of Leuchtenberg, as they see fit? Or will they once 
more oveiTide the clearly-expressed wishes of a people whicli 
ought to be free, if the shedding of torrents of blood in the 
holy cause of liberty can entitle a nation to that privilege '. 
,0n the answer of the question depends the future of Greece. 
God grant that it may not be her sad lot to be subjected to an 
ignorant, bigoted, illiberal prince, blind to the interests of his 
subjects, deaf to their remonstrances, insensible to their sufter- 
ings, and intent only upon maintaining his power by a series of 
temporary expedients, and upon the accumulation of private 
wealth. Tlien will there be a wide door open for intellectual 
and moral progress, and Greece may become the instrument in 
the hand of an all-wise Providence of furthering the advance 
of pure Christianity in the East. 


About nine miles south of "Whitchurch, a handsome market 
town in Shropshire, England, is the beautiful Hawkstone Park. 
for many yeai-s the residence of the ancient and honorable 
family -of the Hills. The mansion is elegant and spacious, and 
the surroundings are of the most picturesque character, nature 
and art combining to delight the eye and to gratify the taste. 
A celebrated foreign traveler regarded it as one of the mo^t 
attractive places he had visited in all his wanderings. Dr. 
Johnson was particularly struck with its wild beauty. In hi:^ 
peculiar style he calls it " a region abounding with striking 
scenes and teiTific frrandeur." " The ideas which it forces on 

ISOS.l Rowland Hill. . 251 

\\\Q mind are tlie sublime, the* dreadful, and the vast ; above is 
inaccessible altitude, below is horrible profundity."'' 

Cireat as were the honors bestowed on the illustrious family 
rv-iding here, a higher dignity was conferred upon it when 
(iod commissioned one of its members as a minister of Jesus 
( hrist. The year lT4-i, memorable in the history of Method- 
i-in for the meeting of the first Wesleyan Conference, was that 
ill which, on the 23d of August, Eowland Hill was born. We 
put these two events together, as they serve to show the long 
tonn of years over which ]Mr. TVesley's labors extended. One, 
who became an active colaborer in the work of promoting 
tvanc-elical relio-ion, and at the same time a most violent theo- 
logical opponent, was not born until the AVesleyan Tieforma- 
tiun had so far advanced, that its workers were duly organized 
aa a body of Christian ministers. 

Though the parents of Howland Hill were strictly moral, and 
regular church goers, they do not seem to have known any- 
thing of experimental piety. His first religious impressions 
were produced by reading AVatts's hymns. These were deep- 
ened by the admonitions of his brother Kichard and his sister 
•Jjine ; so that at the age of eighteen he experienced the new 
birth, and entered into his Master's " sweet service," as he 
tre.juently termed it. He was at this time a student at Eton, 
and though surrounded by wild and wicked young men, he 
ho.-^itated not to make a bold avowal of his faith in Christ. 
This fiiithfulness at the beginning of his religious life greatly 
j-Jrengthened his heart, and prepared him to withstand the still 
'i'Tcer onsets of persecution which he met when, six years 
i^ktcr, he entered St. John's College, Cambridge. Here he was 
*o despised for his piety that no one connected with the col- 
"■^'e gave him a cordial smile, sa^ -a few God-fearing students, 
""d the old shoeblack at the gate, who was himself an humble 
fulhnver of Christ. He united himself with these praying stu- 
^"•lits, and met with them statedly for purposes of devotion. 
' Inis they encouraged each other's hearts amid tlie depravity 
»^''und them. This company of faithful ones wus similar to 
^"'-* little band which, under the guidance of Mr. AVesley, had 
''»t thirty-five years before in Oxford. Mr. Hill tells us of the 
Iji'-iii they pursued : '" Our custom was to read with each other 
'leureek Testament and other evangelical publications ; these 

252 Rowland Hill. [April, 

meetings we always concluded with prayer. The University 
was almost in total darkness. Xo wonder, therefore, if for 
Buch exercises, and for some other strong symptoms of a 
MethorUstical lias, we were specially marked, and had the 
honor of being pointed at as the curiosities of the day." 

It was while Hill was at Cambridge that six yomig men 
were expelled from St. Edmund's Hall, Oxford, " for holding 
Methodist ical tenets, and taking upon them to read, pray, and 
expound the Scriptures, and sing hymns in a private house." 
The Rev. Dr. Dixon, the principal of the college, used all his 
influence in favor of these young men, but without success; 
whereupon he observed, that " as these six young gentlemen 
were expelled for having too much religion, it would be very 
proper to inquire into the conduct of some who had too little." 
TTe are not told, however, that any such inquiry was instituted. 
Probably in the estimation of these Oxford pharisees it was a 
greater sin to sing and pray iu an unorthodox, irregular man^ 
ner, than to be addicted to swearing, drinking, or gambling. 
Like their prototypes in the days of Christ, they paid '' tithe 
of mint, and anise, ?ftid cummin," but " omitted the weightier 
matters of the law, judgment, mercy, and faith." 

Tliis unrighteous act made no little stir, both at Oxford and 
Cambridge, and called forth the condemnation of all right- 
minded men. The little band at Cambridge deeply sympa- 
thized with their persecuted brethren of Oxford,- and wrote 
letters of encouragement to them iu their fiery trial. IS'ews- 
paper and pamphlet controversies also sprang up, in which 
Dr. Xowell and liichard Hill were the principal combatants. 
It was at tliis time that the latter wrote his "^^ Pletas Oxonicn- 
eis." Mr. Whiteiield likewise addressed a letter to Dr. Durell, 
Vice-Chancellor of the Uniy^'rsity, in which he most perti- 
nently inquired '' why, if some are expelled for extempore ^;>/'ay- 
ing, are not some others expelled for extempore swearing T 

Had the same severity been used at Cambridge, liowland 
Hill would have shared a fate similar to that of his Oxford 
friends, for he was not by any means disposed to hide his light 
under a bushel. . He not only met with his pious fellow-stu- 
dents for devotional exercises, but long before he left college 
he began preaching in cottages, jails, and work-houses. For 
this he was violently opposed by his parents, who deemed such 

1603.1 Rowland Hill. 253 

cotidiict irregular in the extreme. But he could not be diso- 
U-«iiont to the plain calls of duty, and so continued preaching 
w lii-rcver the way was opened. He also met with much oppo- 
»itiun from the students, and brought upon himself the serious 
tli-pk-asure of the authorities of the college, who threatened to 
u iiiihold his degree. Under these circumstances, he wrote for 
inlvice to Whitefield, who was then in London. "Whitetield 
ri'tunicd him a kind answer, recounting some of his own per- 
i«<>cutlons when in a similar situation in Oxford, and exhorting 
liiin to steadfastness in the course he had begun. This was the 
oimuiencement of a warm friendship between the young stu- 
d( lit and the veteran preacher, which only terminated with 
tlic death of the latter, four years after. 

I'cing thus encouraged he continued preaching, bravely 
^i■itll^tanding the storm of opposition which was raised against 
i.iin. But anew difficulty soon arose. He received his degree 
of Bachelor of Arts in 1T69 ; but when, soon after graduating, 
!ic applied for deacon's orders, such was the prejudice against 
):i!ii on the part of the Church dignitaries, by reason of his 
im-gular proceedings, that he was pointedly refused. Six 
'.lucrcnt times did he make application for this formal com- 
fni-^ion of the Church, meetnig only with denial from six dif- 
'va-nt bishops. But these unkind refusals neither damped his 
a^dor nor diminished his zeal. As he could not obtain orders, 
•'0 determined to continue preaching without them, lie felt 
•<::it lie had a divine call to his Master's work, and he gave 
twdencc to the world that he had the anointing of the Spirit, 
^■:t,i(iiit which, the lavinir on of hands confers no real power, 
ii'j txgan a course of itinerating labors in diflerent parts of the 
*^"»;.:doni, preaching often in the great cities witli wonderful 
i "I'ulurity and marked efiect. lie was especially popular with 
•»r. >V liitefield's congregations at the Tabernacle and Tottcn- 
■-«"i Court Chapel. Here immense mmibers waited on his 
':j»ni>try, and it was the general wish of the people that he 
|-i'juld become the successor of their departed pastor. But 
"•^' fould not see his way clear to comply with tliis flattering 

'le also traveled extensively through the rural districts. A 

'i'^ndly clergyman presented him with a little AVelsh pony, 

"*■"" tjccume his companion in many of his most difficult 

254 Rowland Hill. [April, 

journey.-;. As in the city, so among the hills and vales, Mr. 
Hill drew crowds of people by the charms of his eloquence. 
He did not,, however, escape the usual fate of the faithful 
preachers of that day ; he was persecuted in every possible 
way. His services were frequently interrupted by rude men, 
who made all tlie noise possible by shouting hideously, boat- 
ing shovels and pans, blowing horns, and ringing bells. He 
was pelted with eggs, stoned, lampooned, and burned in effiiiy. 
Besides,he often suftered the inconveniences of poverty. lie had 
no resources independent of his father, and such was Sir liow- 
land's bitter enmity to thecoul'se of his son that he allowed 
him only a small annual pittance, so that the faithful itiner- 
ant was often without a shilling in his pocket. But God cared 
for him, and he found compensation for the loss of parental 
sympathy in the society of such men as Berridge, Bomaine, 
Venn, Conyers, Fletcher, Toplady, and John Newton, and 
always found a warm welcome at Bath in the house of Lady 
Huntingdon, which for some time he made his head- 

At length, after four years' patient waiting in the ante-cluun- 
ber of tl\e Church, the door was opened, and he was drJy 
admitted to the ministry by the Bishop of Bath and "Wells, who 
ordained hiiu deacon in 1T73. He never succeeded, however, 
in obtaining priest's orders. The Bishop of Carlisle promised 
to bestow them, but the archbishop of the province inter- 
fered, and issued an order that Hill should receive no further 
grade in the Church "on account of his perpetual irregularity. ' 
He was thus, by the bigotry of the Church authorities, cnni- 
pelled to halt all through his ministry^ "wearing only one 
ecclesiastical boot." 

Upon his ordination he was appokit«d curate of Kingston, a 
spot interesting'in Methodistic history as* the place where "^^ »-^- 
ley and Cuke first met. In one respect, at least, it resembled 
the " sweet Auburn" of Goldsmith, for the salary of the po'^r 
parson was " only forty pounds a year." In addition to tin.-, 
he was, the same year, appointed chaplain to the Countess <». 
Chesterfield. He remained in Kingston only about a year, 
during which time his labors were greatly blessed. He then 
preached for a while near Hawkstone, his native place. But 
here he met with continued opposition from his parents. ^'> 

,-^.3j Bmoland EUl. 255 

^^,t lie found his own home " a furnace indeed." His moth- 
/r^ opposition to his course was especially violent. Lady 
Huntingdon, who felt a deep interest in his success, interceded 
f,.r him" but in vain. Keither Sir T.owland nor Lady Hill 
an^worcd any of her letters on the subject. 
' He lott Hawkstone and built a house and a chapel, which he 
called the Tabernacle, in AYotton-under-Edge, one of the most 
romantic and beautiful spots in Gloucestershire. This became v 
to him what Antioch was to Paul, a starting point for his mis- 
sionary journeys. He traveled far and wide, preaching m 
i.,wn and in country, accompanied, in many of his journeys, 
l.y his beloved wife", to whom he had been married shortly 
k-fore his ordination, and who was -a fit companion for a min- 
ister of Christ. 

Mr. Hill continued these itinerating labors until 1782, m 
which year he conceived the plan of erecting a chapel in Lon- 
don. Many of those who had profited by his preaching in the 
mctropohs desired to have him located among them ; and some 
. f them, who were men of substance, were willing to contribute 
h!.t.'rally to the erection of .a house of worship. His choice of a 
f lid of labor was characteristic of the man. He sought not to 
obtain a settlement among the wealthy and the great, though 
'luubtless, had he so desired, his fame as a preacher -^rould hmm 
immbered many of that class among his pewholders. But feel- 
ing that he had a mission to the poor and the depraved, he 
h^cated his chapel and his residence among them. He selected 
tiie borough of Southwark, at that time one of the most 
wretched districts of the city. Here, during the fearful anti- 
i-'pory riots of 17S0, he had preached to vast congregations, 
J^Jinetimes numbering nearly twenty thousand. Situated on 
Jhc south side of the. Thames, outside the ancient limits of the 
<"ity, and for a long time an independent borough, it was for 
"iiany years a sort of sanctuary for malefactors of every descrip- 
ti'^n.' The vilest passions that disgrace humanity here found 
in<lulgence. One of the old chroniclers of London histor}- tells 
'-i* that in the reiirn of Henry the Second " there were two 
/--■arc Gardens, the Old and ^''ew, places wherein were kept 
lic-ares, Buls, and other Beasts, to bo bayted. As also Mas- 
^•v.--, in severall kenels, nourished to baite them. These Beares 
and other Beasts are then baited in plots of ground, scaffolded 

256 Bowland Hill. [April, 

about, for the beholders to stand safe. Xext on this Eanko, 
was sometimes the Bordello or Staves. . . ."* Abandont d 
"wickedness was handed down through the centuries as an IkIt- 
loom, so that the name of "the Borough" became a syn..- 
nym for utter vileness with all lovers of decency and go-"! 

Though before 'Mt. Hill's time this excessive wickedness 
had greatly abated, there was enough of outrageous depravity 
left to make it a desirable mission-field for a fearless and iudu- 
pendent laborer in his Masters work. Berridge called it '' tlie 
very paradise of devils." Here Eowland Hill erected his cita- 
del, and here for many years he labored among the people, 
bringing souls to Christ. Surrey Chapel was built in an octag- 
onal form, and was one of the largest churches in London, 
seating three thousand people. Mr. Hill labored there durini,' 
the winter months, having an understanding with the trustees 
of the chapel that he should spend the summer at his rural 
parish of Wotton-under-Edge, which he still retained under his 
care. He did not, however, confine himself strictly to thc.-c 
two places, but continued to itinerate as extensively as his cir- 
cumstances permitted. In his own quaint way he styled lilrn- 
Belf " Bector of Surrey Chapel, Yicar of AYotton-under-Edgo, 
and Curate of all the fields, commons, etc., throughout England 
and Y'ales." 

A review of Rowland Hill's life during his long ministry of 
Bixty-six years presents to us the picture of a laborious and 
faithful minister of Christ. During this time he preached 
more tlian twenty-tliree thousand sermons, an average I'l 
nearly three hundred and fifty a year. He sometimes preached 
more than twent}- times in a week. At Wotton-under-Edgc 
and in the vicinity he spoke nearly every evening in the week 
excepting Saturday. This day wa§ not to him, as to many, '-'• 
time of severe mental toil in preparing for the Sabbath, a ted 
which often unfits ministers for the labors of the sacred d:iy. 
He used it as a day of rest for his mind, spending it in garden- 
ing and in various mechanical employments, of which he w;i- 
excessively fond. He repaired clocks, and made cabbage-nct> ; 
and not unfrequently this clerical scion of British aristocracy 
turned cordwaiiier, and made children's shoes, whicli he 
♦ Stowe's "Surve7 of Loiidon," 1633. 

^^^3.1 Rowland HUl. 257 

aelir^Uted to present to the young mothers of his parish, who 
were just as delighted to receive them. 

His laborious activity continued even in old age. In his 
R'venty-first year he traveled in one week a hundred miles in 
tt rough, mountainous part of Wales, and preached twenty-one 
llme>r When over eighty years old, and so infirm that he was 
compcUed to sit while preaching, he preached regularly twice 
on the Sabbath; addressed the me;nbers of Surrey Chapel on 
Monday evening, and lectured on Tuesday evening and Friday 
niL-rning, besides frequently holding special services. 

Xor were his labors limited to preaching. His active mind 
ftnd benevolent. heart led him to identify himself with the 
various charities of the day. On the death of his father in 
nS3 he obtained a much-needed accession to his fortune, on 
which he drew largely for charitable purposes. He never 
raved anything from his annual income, often spending two 
tliirds of it on benevolent objects. He formed soup societies 
for the hungry, and clothing societies for the naked. He 
vi.itcd convicted law-breakers in. prison, and when they were 
ihrown upon the world again at the close of their term of 
imprisonment he put them in the way of obtaining an honest 
livinr'. He was among the founders of the Society for Promot- 
ing Keligious Knowledge among the Poor, the British and 
Foreign Bible Society, the London Missionary Society; and the 
neligfous Tract Society. All these benevolent institutions 
f"iind in him a zealous advocate and a liberal contributor. 

When, in ITOS, Jenner made known his wonderful discovery 
of vaccination as a preventive of small-pox, no one urged its 
-'I'.ption more ardently than Eowland Hill. Doubtless the 
Maid conservatives of that day, if any such attended his minis- 
try, were shocked to hear him present from the pulpit argu- 
Jaents in favor of vaccination, anti^ urge its practice on its 
licarers. He went even further than this. He became an 
amateur operator, and gave public notice to his congregations 
^*-lien and where they might find him ready for the work. For 
•diis purpose he traveled" extensively in different parts of the 
fvuutry, and vaccinated in all more than eight thousand per- 

Uis eSbrts to be useful were also manifested in the interest 
liC took in the Sabbath-school. He was among the first to 

258 Rowland HiU. [April, 

co-operate in the great work begun by Robert Eaikes, and Li; 
helped to originate the Society for the Support and Encourage- 
ment of Sunday-Schools. In 1784 he had the honor of organ- 
izing, in connection with Surrey Chapel, the first Sabbath- 
school in the city of London. lie was an ardent advocate of 
the cause at a time when many good men were numbered 
among its opponents. In 1801 he published " An Apology for 
Sunday-Schools." Amid all his varied cares and engagements 
he still found time for frequent visits to this nursery of the 
Church, spending, when at home, a portion of every Sabbatli 
afternoon with the children. He justly regarded Sabbath- 
Bchool instruction as a most important auxiliary to the preach- 
ing of the word, and by the kindness of his manner, and tli*' 
interest he threw around his instructions, won to himself t!;-- 
hearts of the little ones. The last address he made was to tin.' 
Sunday-school teachers of Surrey Chapel, thus keeping \w^: 
good cause embalmed in his heart to the latest hour of life. 
At the time of his death there were thirteen Sunday-schools 
and three thousand scholars connected with his chapel. 

In addition to the other benevolent enterprises of his life, he 
raised funds for the building and maintenance of houses for the 
destitute poor of his flock. In London he erected near lii:^ 
chapel a neat gothic building, the center of which was appro- 
priated to a school for poor girls, who were clothed and edii 
Gated by the institution. The wings contained apartments K'r 
twenty-four poor women. The only qualifications necessary 
for admission were "distress and a Christian character." He 
also built a similar establishment in "\Votton-under-Edge. The 
opening of his London alms-house was suspiciously followi'. 
by a revival among some of the destitute old women in the 
vicinity, who hoped by a profession of piety to obtain a com- 
fortable home. But M?. Hill, by carefully observing aii'l 
shrewdly cross-examining the applicants, soon detected the 
latent hypocrisy, which he hesitated not to rebuke in his sever- 
est manner. 

As a preacher, Rowland Hill was one of the most popuhu- 
men of his day. He drew the people toward him by an irre- 
sistible charm. His own chapel was always full when iie 
preached, and wherever he went vast crowds waited on h)-= 
ministry. He preached a number of times to listening thousauui 

J ^^^3.] Rowland mil 259 

in the celebrated Gwennap Amphitlieater, near Eedrutli in 
(^ >rnwaU the scene of some of Mr. Wesley's grandest eflorts. 
1 1, -re in full view of the lofty Carn-bre, from whose summit, 
it is said, the smoke of human sacrifices once ascended, the 
inquiring multitudes were taught to offer to God the acceptable 
^•n•riticc^of a broken spirit and a contrite heart. His ministry 
ftl.0 attracted even the serious, metaphysical Scotchmen. They 
were unaccustomed to his peculiar style of preaching, his direct 
Krsonal appeals, his striking illustrations, and above all his 
nnt and sometimes amusing anecdotes. One of their preachers 
ftutes that he never heard an anecdote from a Scotch pulpit 
until he heard Hill preach. Ko wonder then that some of 
them charitably thought that " the poor gentleman was a little 
cracked." But the masses crowded around him. In Edin- 
burgh he preached in the circus, which had been hired and 
CttJtl up by a few zealous men as a place of worship. The 
auJiences soon became larger than the place could hold, and lie 
tiicu went to Calton Hill, where he addressed congregations 
fometimes estimated at ten thousand, and made np of all classes 
of society. "Eh, sii's, what will become of us now?" said a 
pood old woman as she observed some soldiers in the crowd, 
wjio were one day pressing their way to the hill. " What will 
tills turn to? the very sodgcrs are ganging to hear preaching." 
That staid and conservative body, the General Assembly, were 
much excited by the interest created by Mr. Hill's preaching, 
and they accordingly issued a "Pastoral Admonition," warn- 
ing the peonle against countenancing such "irregularities." 
They might as well have warned them against letting sunshine 
nito* thefr houses whenever it broke through a Scotch mist. 
The people did as they pleased. 

Doubtless much of this popularity wfjs due to the natural 
advantages possessed bv the speaker. The fact that he belonged 
to a noble family was of itself sufficient to draw many from 
curiosity. His appearance was also attractive. He was above 
the average height of men, and of commanding presence, 
though sometimes unmindful of a due regard to his toilet, it 
we may credit a story told by Mathews the actor.* His voice 

• Mathews says he once saw Rowland Hill "in the Strand, with a red slipper on 
cu« Cx.t and a shoe on the other; the knees of his breeches untied, and the strings 
•iangling down his iQ^a.^—CunninghanCs London, vol. i, p. 96. 

260 BowJand Hill. [April, 

was one of the clearest and best ever used in preaching tlie 
Gospel Full, s^veet, and musical, it could be distinctly heard, 
even in extreme age, by the largest assemblies. His eccentric 
friend Bcrriclge, Yicar of Evcrton, said of him at the beginning 
of his career: ''lie is a pretty young spaniel, fit for land or 
water, and has a wonderful . yelp." He once frightened off a 
party of highwaymen, who attacked his carriage at night. 
He stood up and raised such a tremendous, unearthly shout, 
that one of the villains cried out, "We have stopped the devil 
by mistake, and had better be ofiV xVnd off they went. 

But it was not these natural advantages alone that made 
him popular. Had he possessed no other nobility than that 
of voice, appearance, and family connections, his fame, though 
brilliant as a meteor, would have passed as soon away, ^'^or 
can we find the secret of his popularity in the mere matter of 
his discourses. There were other preachers in his time whose 
sermons were just as evangelical, and prepared with far more 
attention to the rigid requirements of rhetorical rules, who 
were scarcely known beyond the limits of their o^vn congrega- 
tions. He seems to have had that indescribable, magnetic 
power, possessed by some gifted men, which throws a spell 
around an audience, giving the speaker as complete control 
over the passions of his hearers as the skillful musician has 
over the instrument whose chords vibrate music at his gentlest 

There was also an earnest and hearty sincerity which com- 
mended him to the attention and the afiection of his hearer.^ 
His views of the ministerial ofiice were of the most practical 
character. He regarded his congregation, not as an audience 
waitino- to be amused, though perchance some had come for 
that purpose, but as a company of innnortal souls, who were to 
be faithfully warned, etirnestly exhorted, and kindly encour- 
ao-ed. His sermons abounded with clear presentations of the 
doctrines of the Gospel, accompanied by sudden bursts of vivid, 
sublime, and often singular illustrations. He felt the need ot 
a ministry adai-ted to the i)eople ; not only to their tastes, but 
to their real wants. Hence the great stirring truths of man ^ 
fall and redemption were those on which he delighted to dwell. 
He was sometimes blamt-d by high doctrlnalists for not preach- 
inf to the elect onlv. His answer on one such occasion was, 

lv;G3J Jlowland HiU. ^ 261 

:'I don't know them, or I would preach to them. Have the 

"..cKhicss to mark them with a bit of clialk, and then 1*11 talk 

* I.) ihem. If it is not right to preach to sinners, to whom am 

I to preach? for all have sinned and come short of the glory 

of (lod." 

Kowland Hill was never noted as a hard student. Indeed, 
huw could he closely apply himself to study when demands were 
j'.iadc for his assistance from all parts of the country, keeping 
him constantly engaged in preaching ? His library, though 
small, was choice. In preparing for the pulpit his first 
rllurt was to find, by a critical examination of the original 
if\t, the simple, primary meaning of the Holy Spirit. He 
cvimposed but little, and always preached extempore, being 
strongly opposed to reading sermons. His discourses were 
<lilctly expository, and were full of illustrations, some of them 
'^uaint, and many of them drawn from surrounding circum- 
stances. He possessed, in a larger measure than most minis- 
ters, the faculty of adapting his illustrations to the capacities 
i!id peculiarities of his audience. The Ilev. AYilliam Jay, in Mr. 
H ill's funeral sermon, remarks that his preaching " consisted in 
: ''--a-ing and striking sentiments and sentences. I never heard in my life without hearing something solemn and pathetic ; 
i:i<l when simile has not been followed by example, just as tlie 
taushine succeeds an April shower." "He brought down 
»rj:tnnent and thought to the reach of the plainest capacity, and 
tU'u, by some f\miiliar, or shrewd, or striking allusion, furnished 
Jt with a handle by which his hearers could take it away.''* 

At one time, having gone to preach in a manufiicturing 
•v'wn on a week-day, while walking in company with the pas- 
'-«jr of the Church through the streets to the place of worshi}>, 
•••- stopped at almost every shop to examine the different 
*^iclt'S manufactured. His good friend the pastor was somc- 
'<'l-:tt annoyed by this, fearing that the preacher's attention 
^^•'ild be so diverted by passing scenes that the congregation 
**juld have a poor sermon. But Mr. Hill had not preached 
•^•'!.u' ere the pastor discovered that what had so troubled him 
^^s only a part of the preacher's preparation for his work, 
lie illustrated the truths he enforced on his delighted audience 
••V rclt-rence to the various objects with which their dail}- 
* Christian Observer, vol. rrxiii, p. 350. 

I'ouuTu Sekies, Vol. XV.— 17 


262 Rowland Hill [April, 

emplo^nnent made them familiar, even making tlie smoke 
whicli curled from their towering chimnevs a dark background ^ 
on which he pictured truth to their minds. He shoAved in ' 
this that he had been a diligent disciple at the feet of tlio 
Great Teacher, who, when he addressed the people, brought 
to his service the lilies, the birds, the precious pearls, and the 
fruitful seeds, and even despised not such humble things as the 
leaven and the besom of the housewife, the net of the fisher- 
man, or the old garment, threadbare and torn. 

He could seldom preach well unless his feelings were excited, 
and hence, like most men of his temperament— av, and may 
we not say, like men of all temperaments— he occasionally had 
" a hard time." His mind under such circumstances refused 
to act freely, and though he labored hard he seemed to spend 
his strength for nought. But he never allowed himself to get 
embarrassed by this want of success. Cool and collected, when 
all other means had been tried and failed, he opened several 
safety-valves which he always kept within convenient reach 
for such extreme cases. He first gave a lecture to masters and 
mistresses on the duties they owed to their servants. If, by the 
time he finished this, his mind worked clearly, he resumed tlie 
subject of his discourse; but if the difficulty continued, he 
proceeded to berate the Antinomiaus and Socinians. By this 
time the hour of service would be nearly gone, and looking at 
the clock he would say, " I see your time does not permit me 
to go through the subject ; perhaps we may resume it on the 
next Sabbatii." One day, while preaching from the text, "My 
heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed," and f^iiling to make 
much headway, he exclaimed, after a momentary pause, 
" O, my dear brethren, it is a good thing to have the heart 
well fixed on the dodiines of the Gospel." Here was an 
inexhaustible source of relief, and he did not fail to improve 
it. He explained justification, and then noticed some other 
doctrines, the time all the while gliding away, and at last he 
looked up at the clock, and remarking that the time did not 
permit him to finish, he sat down relieved. 

This tact and coolness in presence of an audience were otten 
of great service to him. In the early part of his ministry he 
attempted one day to preach in a seaport town to a crowd ot 
Bailors. He spoke in the open air, and seated on horseback. 

li^(*>3.1 * Rowland Hill. 263 

\\<i was, Lowever, frequeutly interrupted by the rudeness of 
i.:# unruly congregation. They hooted and hissed, and occa- 
t:on;illy threw various missiles at tlie speaker. Finding it 
i;>^'U'.-s to proceed further he stopped preaching, and turning 
I.. Kcune of the noisiest, asked them to give in turn an account 
,.r their travels and adventures on the sea. This novel pro- 
jH.wal excited much merriment, and when good-humor was 
rt^tored and their attention drawn to him, he told them what 
he had intended to say had they listened, and thus succeeded 
in j»reaching his sermon to them in spite of their opposition. 
The rough tars listened with tokens of interest and approba- 
tion, and at the close gave him three hearty English cheers, 
hnd asked him to come again. 

He once, by a little shrewd management, completely out- 
witted his excellent brother Richard, whom his father sent 
t.» him on business of a somewhat delicate nature. As we 
have already noticed, his f\ither entirely disapproved of his 
irregularities in the ministerial work. Learning that Rowland 
w;is preaching in the streets of Bristol, he sent Richard to 
A'linonish his young brother, and if possible to induce him to 
•i' =!st. ^WTien Richard reached the city he ascertained that 
l^is brother had gone to Kingwood to preach to the colliers. 
He innnediately followed him there and heard him preach. 
ilc saw the effects of this preaching on the poor colliers, 
'.'Jliced their profound attention, and witnessed the dee'p emo- 
tion of their rough natures as the tears made channels down 
tlifir blackened cheeks. Rowland saw Richard in the crowd, 
•^""1 surmising his errand, told the audience that "he had no 
'•'■•ubt his brother, Richard Hill, Esq., whom he was happy to 
^*e among them, would speak to them the following" day on 
•'^e great truths of the Gospel." Richard had been a lay 
iroucher, but at the earnest solicitation of his father had a few 
"months before this desisted from the work. He was entirely 
^^y^^w by surprise at Rowland's bold announcement, but having 
•••■c'n deeply moved by the scene he witnessed, he dared not, as 
'^ r-'"od man, decline, and on the next day actually did the very 
'*''"g for which his f^ither had sent him to censure his brother. 
^ '--^ said, however, that when he reached home, and thought 
"'the "irregularity" of the proceeding, he deeply regretted 
*J'iit he had done. 

2G4: R(ywland Hill. • • [April 

Many were attracted to Rowland Hill's ministry by hi-; 
eccentricities. To many of the present generation, who know 
him only as belonging to the past, the bare mention of his 
name is suggestive of a pulpit joke. ]\Iany are the singular 
Btories concerning him which have found their way into the 
jest books and newspapers, some of them gross exaggera- 
tions of facts, and others having no foundation whatever^ in 
truth. In his latter days, when the mellowness of advancing 
years had somewhat chastened his native humor, Mr. Hill wa^ 
Very much annoyed by these spurious anecdotes. One in pai-- 
ticular gave him extreme pain, since it represented him as want- 
ing in p-oper respect for his wife, by administering to her a puh- 
lic^rcproof on occasion of her appearing in Sun-ey Chapel witli a 
new bonnet. When he saw this story in print he was greatly 
grieved. " Sir," said he to a friend, '"' I hope that the Cliristian 
minister, if not the gentleman, always prevented me from 
making my wife a laughing-stock for the amusement of the 
vulgar!" Doubtless many of the facetious stories of eminent 
men which serve to fill the columns of magazines and news- 
papers have as little basis in truth as this. But if men will 
be odd, as well as eminent, they must not wonder if some 
unscrupulous story-maker should use their names to give point 
and interest to his false narratives. 

RoM-land Uill never affected eccentricity as many do, seek-, 
iug to cater to a vitiated taste, and making the house of GuJ 
a place for Sunday amusements. Whatever oddities he had 
were natural. AVe do not make this a plea for justifying all hi:^ 
whimsicalities, since it is not always safe or right to indulge 
our natural propensities : they should rather be chastened an'^ 
subdued. We simply state the fact. He was cheerful and 
witty from a boy, and always had a taste for the ludicrous. 
One who knew him intimately asserts, "Had not God changc<l 
his heart, he would probably have made one of the first come- 
dians of his day." This natural proclivity to mirthfulness wx-i 
indulged rather than restrained. It is not improbable that In^^ 
intercourse and intimacy with Berridge exercised an unconscious 
influence over him in this respect. ]3e]-ridge was himself notoil 
for oddity, and Hill became acquainted with him at a time whcTi 
his own habits were forming, and when, perhaps, a friend an<j 
adviser of another stamp would have led him to modify an- 

|;^G3.] Rowland Hill. 265 

temper his mirthful propensity instead of indulging it. But 
the two were drawn together by a common feeHng of zeal 
Hud earnestness in the cause of God, and this gave Berridge a 
ft rung influence over the young student. Hill, however, would 
umloubtedly have been odd had he never seen the eccentric 
,.;,1 vicar of^Everton; and the blessing which the good old man 
was made to the persecuted student more than counterbalanced 
luiy additional singularities of which his example may have 
lk.en the innocent cause. 

:Mr. Iliirs. eccentricities were in manner only, and not in 

jnatter. He made no effort to dazzle his hearers with brilliant 

theories, and had no desire to mystify them with metaphysical 

^i^•culatIons. He never cared to wander comet-like from the 

^M-oat central sun of truth into the dark and unknown regions 

..f error, but steadily kept in his orbit, pm'suing faithfully 

the path of duty from year to year. He was conscientious 

lilso, as well as natural, in the means he used to attract and 

interest the people. He wished to arrest the attention of the 

luwer orders, who he felt were too much neglected by the 

elergy of his time. *That in endeavoring to accomplish this 

.k^iruble result he sometimes overstepped the bounds of pro- 

l-ricty, and seemed to trifle Avith serious tilings, there can be 

ii.j doubt. Yet BowLand Hill cannot justly be called a trifler. 

• He felt that he had a serious duty to discharge in calling 

j-lnners to repentance, and whatever was eccentric in his 

manner he endeavored to make subordinate to this one great 

end. Xor did he indulge in witticisms in every sermon. 

Tliere were times when he held his audience spellbound and 

in tears from the commencemei)t of the discourse to its close. 

r.ut while Mr. Hill honestly thought that he might make 
ti^e of his humorous power to attract the careless hearer to 
(iud's house, he was also keenly alive to the fact that he some- 
times went too far in this direction. This excess of drollery 
iu the pulpit was then followed by tears and lamentations m 
l-rivate. . According to his own confession, many ot the bit- 
t'TCHt moments of his life were thus occasioned. At one time 
l^e preached a sermon at Brighton, a portion of which produced 
"inch laughter among the congregation, though he closed lus 
dia-ourse °with an awful appeal to their consciences, which 
^r«'ught tears to all eyes. After he had retired for the night, 

266 Eawland Hill. [April, 

at the house where he was visiting, a friend hearing a noise in 
the passage way stepped out to inquire the cause, and found 
Mr. Hill pacing the hall in the dee])est agony of mind, mourn- 
ing over the ill-timed, mirthfulness in which he had indulrred 
while preaching, 

Mr. Hill seems to have succeeded better as a preacher than 
as a controversialist. lie early became a famous pamphleteer, 
but he so often indulged in vituperative language and in gro?:; 
personalities that he alienated from himself some of his best 
friends. JS'ot withstanding the so-called irregularity of his 
course as a minister, he enjoyed the favor and friendship of 
many of the clergymen of the Church of England until the 
appearance of his " Spiritual Characteristics." This work con- 
tained many gevere and caustic remarks against irreligious and 
inconsistent ministers, and excited strong prejudices against 
him by its extreme harshness. His friends were grieved by 
the style of the book, and his enemies were exasperated and 
made worse. After this publication he only received occa- 
sional invitations to preach in the churches of the Establish- 
ment, and then chiefly in country places. His controversy 
with the Scotch divines on occasion of the '* Pastoral Admoni- 
tion" of the General Assembly, already referred toj was con- 
ducted in a similar style of bitterness. 

In his dispute with Mr. "Wesley on their doctrinal difierences , 
he pursued the same course, notwithstanding ]\Ir. TVesley was 
forty years his senior. He openly accused him of "forgeries" 
and of "false! lood," and styled him "an empiric or quack doc- 
tor." Mr. "Wesley says of him : " For forty or fifty years have 
I been a little acquainted with controversial writers, some of 
the Romish persuasion, some* of our own Church, some dis- 
senters of various denominations. And I have found maiiv 
among them as angry as he, but one so litter I have not 
found."* It is due to the memory of Mr. Hill to say that h^ 
regretted in later years the spirit he manifested in this con- 

It was this same spirit which occasioned the alienation ot 
feeling between himself and Lady Huntingdon. At the com- 
mencement of his ministry he often preached in her chapel t<> 
delighted crowds, and among them some of the noblest f\nnili<--^ 
* "Some Remarks on Mr. Uill's Review.'' — Works, vol. vi, p. 145, Am. ed. 

1SC3J Rowland Hill. 267 

in the land. But his views of Church polity diflered somewhat 
Irom hers. In truth he never relished the idea of women ruling 
in the Church, and he seems to have thought her too fond of 
authi)rity. This she could have endured ; but when he carried 
)ti? opposition so far as to make her and her followers the sub- 
jivt.s of some of his ill-timed pulpit jokes, taking them " all up 
into tlie pulpit as his merrj-andrews," her womanly spirit was 
nmsod. She never fully forgave him this ridicule, though she 
afterward spoke well of his labors, and contributed to the 
erection of Surrey Chapel, But she resolutely refused to per- 
mit him to preach in any of her chapels, uttering her refusals 
with an emphasis and an authority which made them irre- 

Mr. Hill was to the last devotedly attached to the Church 
uf England, though he deeply deplored her defects. He had 
iiu sympathy with the exclusive notions of some churchmen, 
but opened his pulpit to ministers of all evangelical denomi- 
nations, and frequently exchanged with them. "When some 
of the rigid ones declared that such union with dissenters was 
*' riding upon the back of order and decorum," his reply was, 
'• Happy should I be to ride upon the back of such order and 
decorum till I had ridden them to death." In token of his 
titter contempt for such High Church notions, he actually 
named one of his carriage horses " Order," and the other 
** Decorum !" 

He loved the liturgy of the Church, and used it eveiy Sab- 
hath in his chapel. But in Church government he was neither 
episcopal nor Congregational, but combined the two. Said 
!'*-, in speaking on this subject, " I am, all things considered, 
'•-T a reduced episcopacy, a reformed liturgy, and the election 
'••t the minister by the suffrages of the people." He thus occu- 
pied an indej^endent position, having no formal connection 
^'ith the establishment, nor with any other ecclesiastical organ- 
nation. He formed a religious society peculiarly his own, 
having as its standard of doctrine the Articles of the Church 
*'J' England. 

I" spite of his defects, Bowland Hill was a faithful and 
^'K-cessful minister of Jesus Christ. He early sacrificed worldly 
p'j'iition and ecclesiastical preferment in deference to his own 
Couvictiuns of duty. He chose to share the poverty, contumely, 

268 jEscMtus and Eloquence. [April, 

and labors of a faitliM living ministry, rather than bask in 
the sunshine of paternal favor, or recline at ease upon the fat 
livings of the Church. His love of souls led him especially 
among those who, by reason of their poverty or their crimes, 
were neglected by the fastidious and slothful wearers of the 
surplice,°vho snecringly styled his self-denying labors " irregu- 
larities." The busy streets of the metropolis, the quiet retreats 
of the rural districts, the mountains and the mines, the river- 
side and the sea-shore, were all the scenes of his toils and his 
trials, as they were frequently the witnesses of his joys and his 

His robust English constitution .endured these labors far 
beyond the period at which men ordinarily cease to toil. He 
continued preaching lung after the growing infirmities of age 
reminded him that the "silver cord" of life was loosening; 
and when he became too weak to stand in his accustomed 
place before the people, he addressed them in a sitting posture. 
His last sermon was preached in Surrey Chapel, from 1 Cor. 
ii, T, S, on the last day of March, 1833. Eleven days afterward 
his Master called him from labor to reward. 


The question of precedence among the Attic orators was long 
since decided by the acclamations of the Athenians, and their 
verdict has been unanimously approved by more than sixty 
generations of men who have lived since Demosthenes descend- 
ed from the beiiia. There were once sturdy contestants who 
struir<^led long tuid bravely for the throne of eloquence on 
which the Piraiiian now sits apart from other men, as Jupiter 
Bat on the highest ]>fak' of Olympus apart from the other gods. 
Foremost among those who fought for that high seat was 
^schines, the celebrated champion of the political opposition 
to Demosthenes. Tt is extremely unfortunate for ^Eschines 
that his trulv areat oratorical abilities are never regarded inde- 
pendently in their own light, but are always viewed in the 
dazzlin"- resplendence of his antagonist. Thus the Grecian 

ls,'3.1 JEschincs and Eloquence. 269 

M.-rcurv, like tlie ^lerciirj of onr planetary system, is doomed 
t.» :i perpetual eclipse by excess of liglit. 

This orator vras born B. C. 3S9, and was four years older 
than l^omosthenes. They were both nm-tured amid the civil 
wars which were rocking Greece into ruins — wars instigated 
I'V Persian intrigue and royal gold to destroy the unity of the 
liflk-nic nationality. At that time the i\yE\iovia of the Greek 
.-..nlbderacy was passing in cpiick succession from Athens to 
Spnrta, from Sparta to Thebes, and from Thebes to Philip, 
never more to return to gild those little republics with its 
evanescent splendors. It is a favorite theory with some, that 
a* a compensation for the wide material desolations of war, 
tlicre is always an impetus given to mind ; that amid the 
cartliquake of human passion the stone is rolled away from the 
H-].iilchre, and genius has a glorious resurrection. 

Of the early history of yEschines we know little, except what 
I'.as been preserved in the speeches of his great opponent. 
Ilcuce we must make allowance for the influence of prejudice 
:!:k1 bitter enmity. In the last oration of Demosthenes there 
;- i)rcserved, like a fly embalmed in amber, a sneer at his 
:«Mt:\gonist because he was the son of a schoolmaster, and 
r!--!stcd his father in the care of the school-house — a disgrace 
\v lilch the people of these northern states, and those who sym- 
I'lUhize with their notions of the dignity of labor, are incapable 
"f appreciating. JEschines next appears as an actor in the 
Atlienian theater, in the days when the Dionysian orchestra 
M!>tained to Grecian eloquence and literature the relation 
^■lii<'h the London stage, in the age of Shakspeare, sustained 
' ' Kiiglish oratory and letters. Demosthenes ridicules his per- 
'"nuances as complete failures — a statement which seems 
...irdly compatible with his subsequent brilliant career as a 
J-'pular orator. It is probable that a degree of success attended 
*!"' vuung tragedian, and that the stage was to him what it 
\va.^ to Sheridan, a school of oratorical discipline stimulating 
•'> '-loeutionary culture, and imparting confidence in the pres- 
•-■''ce of vast audiences. It must be remembered that the thea- 
^^*r in the age of Sophocles was not a mere play-house, a center 
'•'* attraction for the idle and dissolute, a mart where the 
' 'I'l'iun could make merchandise of her beauty; but it was a 
*liiCnitied, municipal institution for the education of the public 

270 yEschincs and Eloquence. [April, 

in tlie absence of the university, tlie library, the lyceuin 
lecture, and the newsjjaper. ^scliines next appears to gooj 
advantage on the battlc-iield, where his valor is commended 
by his general, and he is honored with the announcement of 
the victory. What elements his military life contributed to 
his oratory we cannot point out ; but his known bravery in the 
face of death gave him a decided advantage over Demostlieues 
in their last struggle, in which xEschines repeatedly hurls at 
him the charge of cowardice. But the occupation in which he 
next engaged, more than anything else, laid the foundation of 
his future eminence in statesmanship and eloquence. lie 
became clerk of the tKnlrjola^ the legislative assembly of the 
Athenian democracy. Here he became thoroughly versed in 
the laws and polity of the government. 

In a healthy democracy, which is preserved from oligarchy 
on the one hand, and from ochlocracy on the other, only by 
the safeguard of the statutes, there must always be great rever- 
ence for constitutional principles and legal enactments. Tlie 
political orator must be able to appeal to this popular rever- 
ence, by presenting himself as the champion of his country'? 
institutions, and the vindicator of her laws. How skillfully 
^schines used the legal knowledge here acquired we shall ^ec 
when wc come to be spectators of his last grapple with the 
invincible athlete of the Pnyx and the Agora. While patiently 
performing the drudgery of his humble office, he was, in real- 
ity, taking" lessons in the greatest school of parliamentary and 
forensic eluquencc ever opened on the earth. Day after day 
and year after year during that brief but brilliant era the he^t 
models stood before him on the bema. Ascending that cubic 
block of marble, crowned with chaplets of myrtle, symbolizing 
at once the kingliness of the orator's vocation and the sacred- 
ness of his person while exercising his divine faculty, tlio~o 
monarcLs of mind ruled, each his hour, with more than reg^l 
scepter. That scepter the grave and pithy Phocion now 
sheaths his sword to wield, and now the weighty and elab- 
orate Lycurgus waves that symbol of dominion over tlu-.-o 
tumultuous freemen ; and now Callistratus takes up that rcJ 
of power, and, smiting the soul of the lad Dcmosthejies, 0]>ens 
a perennial fountain of eloquence; anon the dashing, facctiuiu- 
Demades grasps that staff of empire, and makes even the 

1<C[],] /Eschiyies and Eloquence. 271 

j^riiH-o of orators bow before the spontaneous outbiu-sts of his 
native eloquence. Here also the argumentative and far-seeing 
IIv!>orides proposes to the trembling fugitives from Chseronea, 
\\ic Jcrnier resort of the tottering republic, "emancipate and 
urin the slaves." And here, when afterward indicted for his 
nlMtlitionism, he made his memorable defense: "AYhat do ye 
rrproach me with? Proposing to give slaves their liberty? 
I did 60 to save freemen from becoming slaves." Alas ! Athens 
liccded not the voice of her savior ; but in the insane attempt 
to tave both slavery and freedom she went down into that 
^Tuvc which knows no resurrection. 

Such are some of the brighter stars in that constellation of 
i-l'»(]uence which daily cuhninated over the Athenian assembly. 
To that galaxy must be added a name outshining ail others. 
I'nr Demosthenes, in contrasting the dignity of his own history 
•.viih the humble life of ^schines, though his junior, utters 
tlic proud boast, "you were scribe of the ecclesia, I harangued 
the people." Association with orators is an incentive to the 
i-tuily of the art. Eloquence in men is as much a mimetic art 
ri« talking is in children. iSot only are the outward expression 
and the marshaling of words into sentences in all speakers an 
unconscious reproduction of the patterns by which they have 
been surrounded, but the very spirit of oratory is contagious. 
A genuine orator surrounds himself with an atmosphere per- 
\a<Jed by the subtle electricity of thought and feeling ; and all 
within his sphere receive the inspiration of liis genius, as the 
nnelectrified conductor becomes inductively excited by the 
Jiiore vicinity of the battery, or as common iron becomes mag- 
'■(■{'m by long contact with loadstones. 

Having alluded to the influences which conspired to mould 
•his orator, we now turn to his orations. Of the many speeches 
which such a leading statesman must have made, but three 
r*-niain. These have been styled the three Graces. All who 
rvad them are struck with the fitness of this ap^^ellation. They 
^■»ro all spoken directly or indirectly against Demosthenes. This 
"ii»y account for their preservation, while those not interlinked 
'•'ilh the orations of his illustrious rival have tailed to partake 
"J his immortality. The limits of this paper forbid a review of three. We will, therefore, examine that one which is the 
crowning grace of the triad, the Oration on the Crown. This 


272 JEschines and Eloquence. LApril. 

last effort of ^schines comprises the substance of all liis pre- 
vious speeches in that long struggle, M-hich ended at last in 
his personal defeat and exile. The same may be said cl" 
Demosthenes' defense ; it is a recapitulation of all his fornicT 
orations, for such was his singleness of aim through all his life, 
that all his speeches are capable of compression into one ni:i-- 
nificent whole,, without violating the rhetorical canon of unity. 
The brilliancy and power of both the orations Da Gyrona^ unpre- 
cedented in the annals of ancient eloquence, in melancholy 
contrast with the waning grandeur of Greece, and the 
epeedy extinction of the Athenian state, remind us of tlic 
fabled sweetness of the swan's last song as she floats down the 
river charming away the fear of death with her own melody. 
These orations may be regarded as the funeral eulogies of Attie' 
eloquence. To appreciate the arguments on both sides, we 
must imderstand the political constitution of Greece and her 
history during that period ; a study eminently appropriate for 
Americans in the present crisis of our institutions, and espe- 
cially for those who look for peace in a cowardly acquiesceuc-^ 
in tiie destruction of the federal principle underlying our 
republic. Fifteen independent sovereignties in the Pelopon- 
nesus and in Hellas proper, with the numerous islands of 
the Archipelago, and the Greek colonies of Asia Minor, u!id 
of Magna Gra?cia, Southern Italy, constituted the ol T.XXr]vtc. 
This confederacy was an assembly of kindred states in treaty 
relations, retaining and frequently exercising the right of seceding 
and of warring against each other in genuine Carolinian style. 
Moreover, every city claimed the right of autonomy and a qvasi 
independence of its own state. The idea of a grand, repre- 
Bentative, federal government for all the Greeks, while cacli 
state retained a modified sovereignty over its internal aflairs — 
the conception of a consolidated republic, E Plurilus UnuhU 
was beyond the grasp of Grecian statesmanship. This ill-com- 
pacted league, with no executive head, save the state which w:i^ 
victorious in the last battle, with no federal legislature, and n'> 
supreme court, except a politico-religious body exercising souic 
judicial functions, styled the Ampliictyonic Council, was nu 
match for the ambitious autocrat of Macedonia. * Philip observ- 
ing from his northern watch-tower the dissolution of the Gre- 
cian empire by chronic jealousies and intermittent civil wars, 

lsC3.] yEscJdncs aiid Eloquence. 273 

:0M>lvea to put a brilliant in his diadem by the conquest and 
Unexation of that country which was the center of civilization 
and the intellectual sensorium of the world. lie was a states- 
man devoid of moral scruples, regarding his oath only while it 
wa* for his advantage. He freely scattered bribes in the 
o.uiitries against which he had hostile designs, and he always 
fuuiul palms open to receive the wages of treason. Ilis maxim 
u.a>, that any citadel could be taken into which there was a 
Jour large enough to admit an ass laden with gold. He has 
no congressional committees to pry into his purposes ; he keeps 
ilis own secrets and moves steadily to his object. The Athe- 
Tiiuu allied cities on his borders are embroiled in war, and fall 
into his hands, thus obtaining the same Mediterranean sea- 
l^..l.4 which the Eussian czar has so long coveted. A sacred 
w:ir for the vindication of the temple at Delphi arises in Greece, 
;.!i.l- Philip piously espouses the cause of the insulted Apollo, 
(liastises the sacrilegious Phocians, procures their ex]--)ulsion 
iVuiii the Amphyctionic Council, secures the admission of bar- 
r.iric Macedon and his own election to the presidency. Under 
i!:e pretext of piety he has taken a long stride toward his 
coveted prize. Thermopylce, the key of Greece, is in his hand, 
urid in every city there is a strong party in his interest, through 
the combined influence of religious superstition and Macedo- 
!iaii gold. He has control of the Delphic Oracle, and hence- 
r.-rth the Pythia will philipize. For tyrants in every age, 
^lifther they wield the scepter, the crosier, or the plantation 
••viiip, instinctively poison the fountains . of religion. Thus 
^itli noiseless footfall the enemy of democracy steals intoslum- 
■vring Greece. Put there is one sleepless eye intent on the 
^ily foe, one tongue rings out a ceaseless alarm, one person is 
'-•i'luitous in journeyings and embassies, checkmating Philip 
♦'t every point. The name of Demosthenes becomes the 
\vnunym of union and war. The principal obstacle to his 
i^triotic endeavors is the Macedonian party which he every- 
^ ijcre encounters. Under the guise of peace men, deprecating 
'•10 cost and the horrors of war, they constituted a furmidable 
•i'i'usition to Demosthenes, and an auxiliary invaluable to 
I'i'illp. J^schines was the leader of this taction, into which 
^"luc men of incorruptible integrity and unquestionable patriot- 
i^Ju had been unwarily drawn. This fact rendered the work 

274: JEscKines and Eloqxience. [April, 

of the Athenian patriot more difficult, and greatly strengtlicnod 
the hands of his opponent. To amuse the people with plausi- 
ble excuses for the mysterious movements of his Macedonian 
master, was the work of the one ; to strip off the disguise 
which enrobed traitors, and to arouse the Greeks from their 
fatal stupor, and to hurl them in one solid battalio)! against tli^j 
destroyer of their liberties, was the work of the other. To \i~- 
who study this great contest in the light of subsequent events, 
and to whom the policy of Philip is clearly disclosed by his- 
tory, the argument may seem to be all on one side. Buf t<i 
the iithenians unable to divine the secret purposes of the Mace- 
donian, and incapable of attributing to a second rate barbarian 
power a scheme of conquest so ambitious, and sorrowfully 
experienced in the ruin and hazards of war, there were two 
sides to the question. The result of the great debate was 
doubtful. But while the scales were thus evenly poised, Philiji 
drops his mask and makes a bold move, menacing Boeotia and 
Attica. The seizure of Elatea caused an uprising of tlie 
Greeks like that which occurred when the beacons, blazing' 
from Land's End to Margate, announced to infuriated Eugli^:;- 
men the approach of the Spanish armada, or like that sublini<. 
mustering of half a million of brave Americans when the many- 
tongued telegraj)h whispered in every city and village the 
story of America's dishonor in the tragic fall of Sumter. Tlie 
Grecian party are now in the ascendant, ^Eschines hides lii:^ 
head, and the star of Demosthenes mounts to the meridian. 
Swayed by his eloquence, and by the logic of events, the states 
unite and march to repel the invader, and are totally van- 
quished at Chferonea. Demosthenes is in the panic-stricken 
mob in their flight from that great disaster. Now the tables 
are suddenly turned in Athenian politics. The patriotic orator 
whose prophetic vision of ^'ictory has been dispelled by the 
rude shock of arms, and whose portraiture of Philip's ferocity 
has been falsified by his politic lenity toward Athens, now con- 
ceals himself from the unexpected reaction' in the public o}'in- 
ion of his countrymen. lie dares not appear on his former 
throne of power, the bema, and no vote is allowed to be pro- 
posed in the name of the humbled champion of liberty. The 
name of Philip, once uttered in the Pnyx with execration, i^ 
now pronounced with adulation. To check the huzzas of the 

jK<,3.] JEscMnes and Eloquence. 275 

VTnccdonian party, and to shield the fallen statesman from the 
t:>,M.k'nce of his enemies, a formal popnlar ovation is planned 
i-v his fi-iends, and it is resolved that Ctesiphon propose in' the 
5.'-onibly his public coronation for virtue and patriotism, 
riifortunately the proposition contravened certain laws of the\ After its passage through the Senate, ^'Eschines arrests 
iho proposed vote, by prosecuting the mover for bringing for- 
ward an illegal decree. Demosthenes is retained ostensibly to 
defend Ctesiphon, but really to vindicate himself. It would 
Krni that the delays of the law are a vexation of no recent 
origin. For eight years this important suit is postponed ; and 
fur eight years these vengeful demi-gods collect their thunders, 
[hiring tliis time Philip falls by the hand of the assassin, and 
iN-nuisthenes excites an abortive revolt against the youthful 
Alexander, which occasions the complete annihilation of 
Thfbes. Still more recently the restless patriot had encouraged 
Sparta and several other Peloponnesian states to a disastrous 
insurrection against Antipater, the Macedonian viceroy. These 
r<<'fnt failures had added to the odium against Demosthenes, 
■-'.A had furnished his merciless enemies with new weapons for 
li!? destruction. Probably vEschines had deferred the prosecu- 
tion of the indictment, fearing the result. For if he sliould 
!'^il to receive one fifth of the votes of the dicasts, his suit would 
l* pronounced malicious, and he would be subjected to a heavy 
'•no. But after long watching the currents of public opinion 
'ic now sees the tide of Macedonian influence at its flood,. and 
"C resolves to press the indictment. His malice overshoots its 
'"■irk, and his arrow rebounds and wounds his own head. Not 
»;»ti:^tied with the negative victory over his rival by a continual 
J>^>!«tj)onement of the trial and preventing of the crowning, 
<"^i:i.T for a positive triumph over his hated rival, he risks and 
Ivros all. At length the daj is fixed for the last conflict of 
Uio>e intellectual gladiators, a day which shall witness the 
fxtiltution of one and the downfall of the other on the blood- 
•*-^s jirena. Public expectation, so long excited, now stands on 
^•l'^*»e, and from every part of Greece, politicians and students 
"^' oratory, the old and the young, throng the highways to 
"thens, to gaze upon the finale of that exciting struggle 
^■^'iich had extended through almost a score of years. The 
"Jlcllectual banquet was worth the longest jom-ney made to 

276 ^scMiies and Eloquence. [April, 

■enjoy it. The court, probably for the better accommodatiou 
of the vast concourse, was lield suh divo in the affO)-a, the iden- 
tical place where, three hundred and eighty-three years after- 
ward, the gospel of Christ and Grecian philosophy had their 
first collision in the persons of St. Paul, and the Epicureans, and 
the Stoics. Demosthenes, though strong in conscious recti- 
tude, and in the justice of his cause, might well tremble iii 
view of the proverbial ingratitude of his country to her sons 
illustrious for their virtues and their services. Dark, indeed, 
was the record of that nation which had dethroned the placa- 
ble Thyma^tes, impeached the heroic Miltiades, banished the 
politic Themistocles, pronounced the death sentence upon the 
monotheistic AnaxagoraSj^ostracised the incorruptible Cimou, 
maddened to suicide the soldierly Faches, in one day rewarded 
with death six victorious commodores, exiled Aristides the 
Just, and poisoned Socrates the Saint. Might not the annals 
of Athens' shame be brought to a fitting close with the 
recorded immolation, upon the altar of her caprices, of that 
immortal orator who had laid his splendid gifts a holocaust 
upon the altar uf her liberties I 

In his exordium yEschines accoutplishes the purpose at 
which, according to Quiutilian, the speaker should aim, rtddcrc 
audiiorcs Icnevulos, atfintos, dociles. By insinuation he dis- 
parages his opponent, commends himself, and compliments his 
judges. The ancient rhetoricians studied the arts of concilia- 
tion much more carefully than the modern. In the words ot 
Cicero, they made " all the vestibule and, if I may so say, the 
avenue to their cause brilliant." The apostle to the Gentiles 
evinces this kind of rlietorical training, making the approach 
to his cause brilliant, now cpioting their favorite prophets to 
the Jews, or speaking that tongue which was music in their 
ears, now lighting up the avenue of the gospel to dark Athe- 
nian hearts by commending their religious veneration, and by 
adorning his speech with gems from their classic poets, and 
now ingratiating himself with Eelix and Eestus by praising 
their candor and ex^ierioTice. In the exordium of DemostheuL-s 
the o-ood-will of the dicasts is couoiliated in a manner perfectly 
consonant with his bold and vigorous style. At the first open- 
ing of his lips, he enwraps the whole assembly with a feeling 
of deep religious awe, by vividly setting before them the whole 


JS03.1 ^schines and Eloquence. 277 

arrav of Olympian deities gazing npon them from their lofty 
thrones. After liis Tvorkmanlike introduction, .Eschines pro- 
ofd.^ in a straightforward, logical, lawyer-like argument, 
A-iruitiy classifying himself with Solon, the Washington of the 
rv-{iul>lic, and assuming that it is his special mission to guard 
\\.y sanctity of the laws enacted by the father of his country, 
and wantonly violated by the defendants in the suit. The word 
AvC'vparia is perpetually on his lips. We are struck with the 
f'milaiity which there is between the Grecian and the American 
aln!>e of this popular term. A philipizing sycophant, guilty 
•'f tiic loss of his country's independence, ringing changes on 
(Ifiiiocracy and claiming its exclusive guardianship, is a sight 
no more disgusting than an American oligarch, \A\\\ his foot 
en the neck of a prostrate race, prating of the people's liberties 
while mustering armies for the destruction of all their safeguards. 
.i!-cliines clearly and unanswerably proves two points of illegal- 
ity : that Demosthenes, being accountable for his public ofhces, 
*»vas not a proper person to be crowned ; and secondly, that the 
I'^a'^o of the proposed cro^niing was contrary to existing laws. 
Iht'l he been satisfied to let his prosecution rest on these points, 
iio must have been victorious ; but by endeavoring to prove too 
SMifJi, he rears up some structures on sandy foundations, against 
y.uich his antagonist's impetuous eloquence dashes, and, convert- 
"^:j them to drift-wood, by this means sweeps away in the gen- 
f nd ruin even the rock-based edifices constructed with so much 
f'iill and toil. Ilence a caution may be inferred by disputants, 
' -'t to multiply arguments, but til confine themselves to a few 
^l''ifh cannot be successfully controverted. The untenable 
i--;tion which the speaker attempts to maintain is, that tlic 
'■•-aractcr and administration of his opponent are undeserving 
^ trown. lie was not comjietent to discuss this point at all 
unilcr the Traparoiicjv ypa07/, for there was no law against the 
' ^iTe.-sion of a mistaken opinion in a legislative resolve. This 
*<.'i:ld have been an intolerable restriction of fi-ce speech, and 
'• i'^ignant to the Athenian constitution. But the prosecutor so 
-f'lt-ntly desires to strike the character and policy of his great 
-•t'liiy, that he descends to the trick of perverting the meaning 
^' !i law against smuggling counterfeit laws into the archives, 
^■''i he applies this statute to the insertion of errors in a nropo- 
'•t'-^n for legislative action. 
foi-UTii Seiues, Vol. XV.— 18 

278 jEschines and Eloquence. [April, 

But vrith tlie legal fallacy \ve are not at present concerned. 
The logical or rhetorical blunder of associating one inconcluj;ive 
argument with two valid ones, thus giving his opponent the 
advantage of seeming to demolish the sound reasons in his anni- 
hilation of the unsound one, was fatal to ^schines. In vain 
does he attempt to avert the consequences of his folly, by 
beseeching the judges to prescribe for Demosthenes such an 
order of topics as to compel him to answer the two valid counts 
in the indictment before he should take up the point in wliicli 
the chief strength of his adversary lay. Had the judges been 
60 unjust as to interfere with the arrangement of his argument^ 
either to retrieve the error or to gratify the malice of the pros- 
ecutor, it is probable that Demosthenes, thus driven to the wall, 
and forced to defend untenable positions, before a dispassionate 
jury M'ould have been overwhelmed in defeat. But the dicast- 
prescribed no order of reply, and the defendant, by a movement 
declared by Lord Brougham as masterly as that of Xapoleon at 
Wagram, selects his own ground for fighting the battle, and 
renders his enemy's strong intrcnchments entirely useless. The 
thing above all others M-hich^scln'nes slu)uld have avoided, botli 
in the structure of his indictment and of his plea, was affordin;r 
to Demosthenes any occasion for discussing the general afi'air- 
of Greece and his own political relation to them ; for here hi? 
record was not only spotless, but glorious. On this theme, so 
congenial to his own sanguine nature and vehement eloquence, 
lie was sure to sweep away the dry legal points made again-t 
him, as the hurricane brushes away the gossamer webs of th-^ 
spider. But yEschines permitted himself to be as completely 
outgeneraled as did Lord Howe, when he committed the mil- 
itary blunder of leaving Dorchester Heights to be seized h; 
"Washington : a fault which the crestfallen Briton expiated l'/ 
evacuating Boston with a cloud on his fame and a stain on 
England's arms. 

But though ^Eschines made a great mistake in opening a pr-lit- 
ical discussion with his antagonist, nevertheless his rhetoric:-! 
power shines forth liere in great splendor. His periods aro 
flowing, yet concise and lucid. His Greek, the student wh-^ 
has mastered Demosthenes will find to be easy. At every step 
his style reminds us of the transparency, purity, and grace <-'i 
Plato's diction. It is probable that this resemblance to the 

1SC3.] ^scMiies and Eloquence. 279 

..rincc of philosophers has given rise to the tradition that iEs- 
chintK Nvas once liis pupil; for the lips of Plato dropped not 
„t,iv the sweets of philosophy but the honey of eloquence 
«nvs Cicero : " I confess that I have been made an orator, (if 
indeed I am one at all,) or such as I am, not by the workshops 
,.f the rhetoricians, but by the walks of the Academy." He 
inters from the letters of Demosthenes that he was likewise a 
cv.nstaut student of Plato. 

We know of no Avriter who excels J^schines in brilliancy of 
imagination. Ilis descriptive powers surpass even Demos- 
ihciies. The one paints, the other apostrophizes; the one 
{.leases, the other storms ; you admire the style of the one, you 
K-e nothing but the glowing thought of the other. In his 
r».^-^nnlt upon the character of his opponent there is a passage 
wliich has attracted the notice of many rhetoricians, ancient 
Kud modern. The author of the Tusculan Questions becomes 
enthusiastic in his exclamations of delight. ^ ''At quam rhe- 
(orice! quam copiose ! qitas sententias colliglt! qicrc verha 
cvntorquetP' Junius— 5^a^^<;/^^'ra— that mightiest and wicked- 
t-t master of the English language, in his flagitious attack on 
the Duke of Bedford for engaging in public business in the 
•lays of mourning for his only^son, has only imitated apportion 
«'l* tliis celebrated piece of acrimonious vituperation. Xo trans- 
lation can import into English the full measure of gall with 
>^liich it is brimming. But the passage is too long to be 
i.'isertcd in the Greek text. 

And yet, Athenians, this enormous flatterer, having heard from 
tJif omissaries of Charidomus of the dealli of Philii^ hutpretendmg 
'••' Ikivc had it revealed to liini in a vision from the gods, as il he 
J^-vl k-urned the event, not from Charidcmus, but from Jupiter and 
Minerva, who as he says appeared to him in tlie night and foretold 
it lo liim— to him in the night! they whom he perjures himself by 
i'l tlie davtirae '.—this monstrous flatterer, 1 say, on the one hand 
r:.iue helore you with a lie in his mouth, and on the other, onlv 
''■'Vcn (lavs after the death of his daughter, before he liad mourned 
a' d porlormcd the usual rites to the dead, came forth in public, 
«"-"wno(] with a garland, and dressed in white to sacrifice ; he, the 
*^r'teh, ^vho had lost the onlv one and the first one Avho liad ever 
'^'^'i»d him father. I sav not this to upbraid him witli his allliotion, 
^"■t I s^Tutmize his eharacter. For the unnatural and bad father 
c'lriiioi bo a rrood citizen, nor will he wlio lias no afl'ection for those 
viio are nearest and most closely allied to liim value you above 
^'^rei-ners ; nor could it be possible for him who is base in private 

280 u£'schines and Eloquence. [April, 

to become virtuous in puLlic ; nor could he Avho A\'as not virtuous 
in pul)lic at home become honest and upright in the embassy in 
Macedonia, for lie changed not his character, but only his place. 

The last clause contains the most splendid paronomasia ^vhich 
we have met with in any writer except Isaiah. " Ov yap ruv 
vpoTTov, d/J.a Tov ro-oi' novov jtieT7/AAa^6n'." The charming asso- 
nance of the contrasted words in this concise, well balanced, and 
stinging antithesis, must have delighted the itching ears of the 
excitable Athenians. There is no doubt that Horace had this 
passage in view when he penned that admired verse in one of 
his epistles, 

Coclutn, nou auimiim mutant, qui trans mare curnmt. 

Tlie passage containing the most pungent sarcasm is that 
which portrays Demosthenes standing on the tombs of those 
slain at Chieronea, pronouncing their funeral eulogium. For 
immediately after that disastrous battle, he was selected by his 
fellow-citizens to pci'form this sad service for their fallen breth- 

Here it is just to call to remembrance those good men whom thi-^ 
fellow sent fortli, Avith ill-omened sacrifices, to manifest destruction ; 
upon whose tombs mounting with those eoAvardly feet which ran 
away from their post, lie pronounced an encomium upon tluir 
]»ravery ! Can you, wlio are most worthless in all the grave inter- 
ests of men, but most wonderful in the bravery of words, look into 
the faces of these judges and say that you ought to be crowned for 
the disasters of the state? 

In showing the absurdity of crowning Demosthenes, the 
speaker transports the dicasts to the theater, the place proposo'l 
for bestowing that honor; and he calls upon them to listen to 
the proclamaticu of the herald, and to witness the tears which 
flow, not for the heroes of the tragedies, but for the folly of tho 
state ; tears shed liy the kindred of those slain in battle, "who 
now witness tlie crowning of the slayer of their husbands, 
brothers, and fathers. lie then sets in array the orphans nur- 
tured by the state t<> the day of their majority, now panophed 
to go forth to the duties of life with her blessing upon theni. 
and her voice calling them to the highest office within her gitt. 
Then the skillful orator contrasts this scene, which is such ati 
Incentive to valor and virtue, with the public coronation ot one 
who had proved a poltroon on the bloody field, and asks \\hieli 
the judges will set before the youth of the city as an incitement 

ISC3.3 jfEschines and Eloquence. 281 

to ]iiii;h moral excellence. These grapliic contrasts arc -^^Tought 
out with great power, and they must have deeply impressed the 

In exhibiting the disastrous consequences of liis rival's war 
]K>licy, by which Thebes was incited to revolt against Macedon, 
iiO portrays the taking and utter extinction of that city in the 
liveliest colors, making the whole wretclied scene, which the 
K.)inan master of oratory has twice imitated, pass before our 
eyes. "We see the doomed city assaulted by tlie inexorable 
Alexander, and a few of its citizens escaping to Athens ; we 
witness the digging down of the walls, the destruction of the 
temples and tombs, the conflagration of the houses, the slaugh- 
ter of the husbands and sons, the wives and maidens, in sorrow- 
ful bands, l6d away into slavery, the old men and women late 
in life milearning the lessons of liberty, and all weeping and 
liniug up their hands in supplication, indignant, not at their 
misfortunes, but at liim who is their cause, and solemnly adjur- 
ing the Athenians not to crown the guilty destroyer of Greece. 
I5y the test proposed in the Ars Poetwa, the description is 
Jtbsolntely faultless ; for if every word were a pencil stroke on 
the canvas, there would be not tlie least incongruity in this 
i.i.-torical painting. The skill with which the pathos excited 
hy this scene is directed against Demosthenes is a master-stroke 
of oratory. But still more admirable is the skill with which 
iKnnosthenes parries this tremendous blow and makes it 
rebound with fatal effect upon his antagonist, by showing the 
hypocrisy of his lamentations over Thebes, who liad received 
<■■ 'iiHscated Boeotian estates as a reward for liis betrayal of Greece. 
Here we mark another cause of ^scliines' failure, iruincerliy 
"* Ids imthetiG appeals. 

^Ve cannot review his discussion of the various parts of the 
aaministration of his political adversary, the measures adopted 
*'id the alliances contracted. This part of the argument lie 
concludes with the assertion that no private citizen nor state 
ever prospered under the ill-foted counsels of his antagonist. 
I'jc nail thus driven in is clenched by tlie following striking 
^''Ustration containing an acute ii fortiori argument : " O Athe- 
[I'-ins, since you have legislated respecting tlie ferrymen to 
*^ '''^'nis that if any one involuntarily upsets his boat in the 
passage it shall be unlawful for him ever to become a ferryman 

282 JEscM7ies and Eloquence. [April, 

again, as a safeguard against trifling with the lives of the 
Greeks, are you not ashamed to permit a man, who has 
utterly' shipwrecked the state, again to pilot the common- 
wealth 1" ^ ^ n V T 

Here we unearth an egregious fallacy which underlies tiic 
entire plea of .-Eschincs. Eepeatedly does he conclude his pro- 
cesses of reasoning with the declaration that his opponent was 
6 tt)? 'EAAa'rJo^ dXiTi]pioc^, the guilty destroyer of Greece. True it 
was that the ship of state was wrecked with the hand of the 
crreat orator on the lielm. But it does not follow that the pilot 
k culpable for tlie disaster which he exerted his utmost strength 
to avert. The blame may rest on a sluggish or an infatuated 
crew, or the disaster may have been proN^dential. The last 
theory is that which Demosthenes sets up in reply. Cautious 
lest he should offend his fellow-citizens by criminating their 
creduUty toward Philip when he was gaining a foothold in 
Greece, he charcres the ill-success of the Grecian arms to Tv^??, 
the o-oddess of ^fortune. The fallacy under consideration is 
doing its work of falsehood in American politics whenever 
apoloo-ists for slavery, the cause of our national troubles, charge 
antislavcry men with the instigation of the great rebellion. 
Some logicians would classify this fallacy under the head of 
2)ost hoc^ergo proj^er hoc ; others would more exactly denom- 
inate it as a confusion of the occasion with the cause. Paul's 
preaching was the occasion of the Ephcsian mob, the guild of 
enraged jewelers was the cause ; resistance to the aggressions 
of slavery was the occasion of the war of secession, but the mad- 
ness of the blind slavemasters is the cause ; the eloquence of 
Demosthenes was the occasion of the subversion of Grecian 
liberties, but Philip of ]\racedon was the responsible cause. 
But Demosthenes, not satisfied with this negative mode oi 
defense, boldly glories in that unsuccessful resistance whica 
had ended in the^vertlirow of his cherished country. Appeal- 
ing to the traditional sentiment of glory and patriotism, 
he°bear3 his judges, on the wings of his superhuman eloquence, 
up from the hmniliation of defeat and ruin to the heights ot 
exultation and pride, making each heart thrill with noble 
emotions at the recollection of that glorious struggle in whicii 
they had lost all but honor. As loyal Americans we may eoou 
be in need of the very consolation which Demosthenes so elo- 

j^()3.] jEschines and Eloquence. 283 

qiioJitlv imparts to his countrymen in the unfortunate issue of 
I heir struggle for national existence. Hear him : 

I \\\\\ even assert something of a paradox ; and I heg and pray 
vou not to marvel at its holdness, but kindly to consider what I 
iav. If, then, the results (of the war against Phihp) had been fore- 
ki.'.iuii to all, if all had foreseen them, and you, ^'Esclunes, had fore- 
l»>id them with clamor and outcry ; you who never opened your 
tnoulh ; not even then should the conunonwealth have iioandoned 
l.v r design if she had any regard for glory, ancestry, or futurity. 
As it is, she appears to have tailed in her enterprise, a thing to 
which all mankind are liable if the Deity so Avills it ; but then — 
cl. liming precedency over others, and afterward abandoning her 
j.ri'tcnsions — she would have incurred the charge of betraying all 
10 rhihp. Wliy, had we resigned without a struggle that Avhich 
fiur ancestors encountered every danger to win, Avho would not 
have spit upon you ? . . . But never, never can you have made a 
mistake, O Athenians, in undertaking the battle for the tVeedom 
run] safety of all I I swear by your forefithers ; those that met 
tlio ])eril at Marathon, those that arrayed themselves at Plattea, 
those in the naval battle at Salamis and those at Artcmisium, and 
many other brave men vrho repose in the public tombs, all of whom 
alike, as being worthy of the same honor, the country buried, 
vKschines, not only the successful or victorious ! Justly ! For 
the duty of brave men was doue by all : their fortune was such as 
tlio Deity assigned to each. 

Immortal sentiments ! golden words ! worthy to be inscribed 
on every American patriot's heart. After the outburst of this 
irresistible flood of patlios we "^nllingly j^ardon the withdrawing 
of vEschines from the tribunal, before -Demosthenes had con- 
cluded his speech, and his hasty preparation for a rettirnless 
<"xllo ; and Avith the judges \\q unanimously cast otir votes for 
tlie defendant. 

Throughout this entire oration of ^schines there occur 
in,-tances of liis inimitable power of insinuation. As an 
Jii-tance, we adduce an apparently trivial remark made in ref- 
erence to the young man Ariston, who resided in the foniily of 
I'einosthenes : o ri 61 Trpdr-uv ?} 7raa:\;wv dii(^L(ioXog i) atria kuI rd 
~/'<')7m oidafujg ev(yxr]Hov ii^iol Atyav, By the use of that one 
v.'ord -rrdaxojv he wickedly hints at what he dares not assert and 
^•iinnot prove. This facility of insinuation is a knavish art, but 
<^ne often employed by unscrupulous men. The English reader 
>vill understand the gravamen of the charge thus adroitly insin- 
^tcd by reference to liom. i, 27. 

28i uEschincs and Eloquence. [April, 

On the other hand there are loud and persistent allegations 
of bribery, and one or two labored documentary proofs specify- 
ing names, places, dates, and the amounts of gold received l.y 
Demosthenes from foreign princes. TTe are surprised, in view 
of the heinousness of this charge against a public man, that 
there is not the least notice taken of it in the reply — a circum- 
stance which the judges and all succeeding generations have 
construed into a proof of mnocence, on the principle that " the 
wounded bird always flutters." 

There are occasionally witty hits at Demosthenes. He is 
compared to a bugle, from which, if the mouthpiece be taken 
away, there is nothing left ; and his coronation is burlescpied 
by being likened to the imaginary crowning of Thersites, the 
Homeric clo\m, amid the hissing of the Greeks. But the ridi- 
cule of ^Eschines generally fails because it is directed toward 
the wrong ol»ject. There are men who dwell in regions too 
high to be reached by the shafts of derision, men of unbending 
moral purpose and heroic sacrifice, i^o man ever triumphed 
by the use of this weapon against AVashington, though there 
were not wanting fools who hurled this missile at the father ai 
his country. Men of crooked antecedents and glaring incon- 
sistencies of conduct are exposed to this species of warfare. 
The venal orator finds only two foibles in the character of his 
opponent. The first is his " dealing in the marvelous," his pre- 
tense of intimacy with the gods for the purpose of securing an- 
influence over the people. But this was not the most appro- 
priate subject for ridicule in a city whose inhabitants were pro- 
nounced by St. Paul to be ^eioidaqioveg-spovg. The other alleged 
foible was cowardice, based upon his conduct in the battle ut 
Chferonea. This is repeated by .^schines with every variation 
possible to a malicious ingenuity. Perhaps the persistence 
with which this scofter stings his rival for his flight from the 
field, has given rise to the prevalent opinion that the orator and 
the soldier arc incompatible characters — an opinion contra- 
dicted on almost every page of history, and also on the last 
page of the annals of America, where in letters of blood i= 
penned the disaster of Ball's Blulf, and the death of the golden- 
mouthed orator of Oregon. The conduct of Demosthenes m 
yielding to the invincible Macedonian veterans, after a most 
desperate struggle, is no more dishonorable than the retreat of 

IS03.] ^scJiines and Eloquence. ' 285 

amrlos XII. from the lost field of Pulto^va, or of "Wasliington 
fr.tin the liattle of Germanto^^^l, or of Xapoleon from AVaterloo. 
Trubably many of the judges before whom .Eschines was plcad- 
i:i^' were implicated in the same charge, if it is cowardice to 
survive a defeat. Here we mark another cause of failure, mis- 
<y'plicd ridicule. 

Ife is exceedingly unfortunate also in his peroration. It is 
f.vvr.strained and pretentious, and justly called do^yn the scath- 
iii^r derision of his opponent. It is a good illustration of the 
art of sinking ; for the period immediately preceding is the 
njost remarkable in the whole oration, mounting to the yery 
fuinmit of eloquence. With the art of a master he throws 
TiiK'n the canvas an imaginary picture. "We see standin*'- on 
thobema the reyered national fathers and benefactors, Solon, 
■-vho^e oath was upon the lips of the judges, and Aristides, 
trusted by all the Greeks to assess their taxes, earnestly pro- 
touting against such a dishonorable act as the placing of a 
K'*l<lcn croAvn on the head of one who has enriched himself by 
t!io taking of bribes; and we hear Themistocles and the mar- 
tyrs of Marathon and Platfea, and the yery tombs of the fore- 
f-.tlicrs, groaning oyer the degeneracy of that generation which 
^•:i'mld bestow a crown upon the man wlio had plcftted with 
larlj^arians against the Grecian State. 

^ We have abeady pointed out some causes of the signal 
'^'•feat of J!:schines in this celebrated contest. We call atten- 
'^■'n\ to another. His failure is attributable to his lach of a nolle 
j_"o-j)ose. True persuasion must be the outgushing of a soul 
I'lil of generous impulses, the communication to another of that 
''^' fir^t enkindled in the speaker's own breast. Aristotle 
l^-iumerates three qualities which the speaker must possess in 
^•••j'ltT to impress the minds of hearers fayorably : good piiuci- 
H', good sense, and good will. These must constitute the 
■."_>?• -015 Uyovro^, ^schines made a capital flxilure in the first ' 
'•nnciple, for his animus is manifestly an intense hatred of his 
.•''•at political enemy, whom he strives to smite and to destroy, 
'^•accomplish this he must imbue the dicasts with the feeling 
ViicJi rankles in his o\\ti bosom. lie nnist set in array and 

"" d 


-" x^iiiivic'S) m Ills o^\^l Dosom. lie must set m array anc 
•n-»!niity his rival's misdeeds; he must lay bare his villainy, and 
■••"^vt-r scorn upon his meanness. Cut if the denunciation if 
i'-uuily undeserved, a sense of injured justice is awakened 


286 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

tte hearer in belialf of the object of the wrong, and the phil- 
ippic, overcharged with acrimony, defeats its own purpose, as 
an overdose of poison is ejected by its victim. The malignity 
of ^schiues leads him to exaggerate the faults of his opponent 
to such a point that there is a reaction in the minds of his 
readers, as there probably was, in a greater degree, in the mind,^ 
of his hearers. On the other hand, Demosthenes, inspired by 
devotion to the "good principles" of patriotism and love of 
liberty, appeals to similar sentiments in his judges, without 
dan<yer of any damaging reboimd of the excess of emotion which 
he may excite. "We do not assert that the victorious advocate 
in this" trial does not exhibit strong animosity toward his assail- 
ant, nor do we deny that his thunderbolts" were sped to their 
mark by the impetus of wrath— for even the pious Luther con- 
fesses that he was the most eloquent when most angry— but 
we claim that his triumph resulted from an appeal to the nobler 
Bensibilities of his judges. Nevertheless, it cannot be denied 
that both of these orators blot their speeches with disgustinix 
scurrility, ^schines ^^lifies his antagonist, who repays hi 
his own coin. 

aim m 


The Pentateuch aJid JBoolc hf Joshua Critically Examined. By 
the Right Rev. John WrLLixOr Colkxso, T>. D., Bishop of Natal. 
12mo., pp. 229. New York : D. Appleton Sc Co. 18G3.* 

The author of this work, it ^\nll be perceived, is a colonial or 
missionary prelate of the Church of England, in charge of one 
of the South African sees. He began his literary career by tbc 
publication of several mathematical treatises, which were well 
received by the English public. He also put forth some four 
or five smaller devotional works, and more recently a ucnv 
translation and exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, writtou 
" from a missionary point of view ;" which evinces a -vvitie 

* Our own strictures upon this work were written before the appearance o 
Prof. Mahan's answer to it, which forcibly— though sarcasticallj— exposes its 1' ' 
lacious point of view, hut mostly leaves to other hands tho task of refuiiai? i-'' 
errors in detail. 

j4.'.3.1 Colenso on the Pentateuch. 287 

.irt-artnre from the orthodox views on the subject of Christian 
justification, little calculated, one would think, to promote the 
t.-iiveruion of heathen. The bishop will also be remembered 
x< having ventured some time since a strange opinion,-^hat 
ra-j!in polygamists on embracing Christianity are not under 
: :.;i;r;ition to renounce any of their wives. Tlie present volume, 
wliioli is Part One of a proposed series on the Old (and appar- 
ently also the Xew) Testament in the same spirit of " critical 
tiaiaination," gives similar unmistakable evidence of an 
ftitenipt to accommodate at once the objections of English 
t\<\>h^j and Zulu unbelief. The author, in his preface and 
introduction, (which occupy about one sixth of the entire 
vicrk, in matters almost exclusively personal,) naively tells us 
h>\\' he has come to be involved in these critical difficulties, 
v^liich have at length brought him to the bold step of comniit- 
?:iig himself to the public avowal of his belief in " THE UNHis- 
rv'jiiCAL CHAEACTER " of the llosaic narrative. By this asser- 
i:"n, however, which he does not definitely explain, it would 
f'rni (see note on page 16) that he does not wish to charge 
ujx)n " the writer of the story of the Exodus, from the ancient 
'•jiiids of his people," any " conscious dishonesty or iiitention 
?■> deceive ;" but whether the writer in question was himself so 
'-i;<:.roughly convinced of the fabulous character of his materials 
^^ to take it for granted that his readers would be equally able 
^•> perceive their " unhistorical character," (how woefully in 
'.^lat case was he mistaken !) or by what other piece of casuistry 
liO contrived to justify himself in this pious fraud. Dr. Colenso 
'-'^'.s not deign nor trouble himself to inform us, or evfen to con- 
jccHu-e. That this wiiter, quietly assumed to be unknown, was 
nevertheless not Moses, appears quite plain to the author ; 
^•id ft is worth while to observe, as indicating the animtcs that 
J^'> behind the present " critical examination," the manner in 
^ 'ii*'h he anticipates (pages 30-32) the argument for the authen- 
^•'^uy of the Mosaic history, drawn from its citation as such in 
'^•^' Xew Testament ; for example, John vi, 4G, 47 ; Luke xx, 37 ; 
*''i, 29, 31 ; where our Saviour explicitly declares that Moses 
"^'J^'te the account of the incidents referred to. Bishop Colenso 
^^i^'ks he obviates this impeachment of our Lord's veracity by 
fvplying in substance thus : First, the narrative in question 
* ^' not really 'part of the Pentateuch as written by Moses. 

288 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

Second, its acknowledgment as an integral portion of Moses's 
writings by our Lord was merely an expression of the uni- 
versal belief of those times. Third, our Lord had no definite 
knowledge on the subject whatever. "We despair of fram- 
ing logic like this into a regidar syllogism, so as to show 
whether the follacy lies in the major or minor premiss, or '\\\ 
the deduction : the nearest parallel we remember to have hoard 
to such reasoning was the answer of the boy, who, upon being 
charged with breaking liis fellow's knife, rejoined, "Why, I 
never had it ; besides, it was broken when I borrowed it ; and 
more than that, it was whole when I gave it back." 

As to his attack upon the credibility of the Mosaic narra- 
tive, we feel under no apprehension for the issue, whatever 
temporary alarm he may occasion in good minds, or damage 
he may do to the unstable. The Bible as a whole, and in all its 
parts, has survived too many onsets of secret as well as open 
foes, to be in any serious danger from objectors at this late day. 
Many of the dilHculties adduced by Colenso are old ones raked 
together from German sources, and have been answered time 
and again. lie is especially fond of mathematical problem?, 
and harps greatly upon the alleged exaggerated numbers pre- 
sented in the biblical history. These large sums (occurring not 
only in the Pentateuch, but in later books) have by no means 
been observed now for the first time; they have been pointed 
out and explained more or less by nearly every critic and 
expositor of ancient or modern times." The Jews were not 
Tmaware of them, but the Masorites were too conscientiously 
scrupulous of the integrity of the text to attempt to remove them. 
A large proportion uf such are evidently simply clerical errors 
that cannot now be corrected except conjecturally, inasmuch as 
the original sources of information have long since perished : 
others of these alleged statistical discrepancies arc purely 
imaginary, being represented as such merely through the cap- 
tiousness, ignorance, or want of investigation of the objector 
himself. Kothing is easier than to raise difficult questions in 
connection with events and documents of so great antiquity t^ 
the biblical records ; the wonder is, not that so many points 
remain obscure and unex-plained, but that so many collateral 

*Sco especially "Winer's Bihllsches lieal-worterbuch, s. v. Zahlcn. Colenso bn« 
paraded most of the examples of this sort on page 207 of hil work. 

j<o3J CoUnso on the Pentateuch. 289 

v: louccs arc still extant to voueli for tlie truthfulness of the 
K-'iorv and that every year brings fresh light upon the dark 
'^ -vri The friends of the Eible do not shrink in the least 
^uni^the closest scrutiny and comparison of its statements 
«|,icU the present or any other ^vork may challenge. >Ve 
» .'levc that a reasonable solution can be offered of every one 
irOie difficulties hitherto advanced. • But even should we not 
U- al.le .to present an immediate and satisfactory answer to 
vvcrv hard question, however frivolous it may seem to us to be, 
uhi("h this or that Momus may^sce tit to propound, we do not 
Ocrcbv feel our confidence disturbed, but should yet consider 
i-'tlieiici-ht of rashness to fiy to the alternative of rejecting 
I'.o hi^toHcal character of these venerable documents. We 
, addre=^ ourselves cheerfully to the task of divesting, so 
: ;r a. space vdW allow, the way of the sacred student of these 
l;i'htars that have been raised by the pious researches ol 
lurhop Colenso and his colleagues. ATe take them up m the 
^.rvltr in which he adduces them.* 

1 ILzron and JTamul, the sons of Pharez, and grandsons 
<f Judah, could not have leen among the seventy memlcrs of 
Mj'8 family lorn in Canaan, %oho went down with hini 
v.(o Egypt, (Genesis xlvi, 12;) lecause Judah himself was at 
that time only forty-two years old, (Genesis xli, 4G, compared 
viih xxix, 35 ; XXX, 2i-26 ; xxxi, 41.)t We answer : 

(1.) Xevertheless, it is actually possible that such was the 
c-a^e. Many a man has become a grandfather at forty-two years 
of a-e, and in Eastern countries we know that persons ot both 
K-Xi^are marriacreable very early. It is evident also from the 
■i.l-tory itself tha't the series of marriages and births m this case 
t'^.k place in the most rapid succession. Kor is it necessary to 

• la a few of tV.e foUowins replies to Biahop Colenso's objections, ^' ffl'^^ 
••'.'. ourselves ^vith condensing the explanations given by a wnter ^^^^f^^'' 
V^^'Un, Eeke. for January, 1803. An examination of Culenso s book of 

* -.ry d-^orent character appears in the National ^^-'-^^ ^^''^'^X-.'Z 
-^■v. 1S03, in which the .Titer flippantly enumerates the f^^^^'^^^X 
»>pUng their investigation, and merely sneers at the ^^^^ ^^^^^^ 
^ of them; he then goes on, ^^^^^^f^^^^^^J^^^^^ 

• --atradictions" in the Mosaic narrative; but tl>ey are of too t"-;^l ^ ^J^'^^^^^^^^^ 
»" '.. worth refuting here in detail, as he finally admUs, " These are not important 
--; th^v impair very shghtly the value of the narrative. 

1 I.T. Col...nso doe; not make a point specially of the mode m wh>ch this number 
f- -lv*oc-ndanu is made up, and therefore we also pass it by. 


290 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

conclude from the order of tlie narrative (Genesis xxxvii, -j^ 
that Jiidah was not himself married till he became twenty vearj 
old. Supposing he was but fifteen when his third sou Shehih 
was born, (some of them perhaps being twins,) and that Taniar's 
incest occurred in the latters fuurteenth year, (when his nc- 
lect of her would become apparent,) we have still thirteen year-; 
lell for the birth of the sons of Phfft-ez, (who may also lia\ e 
been twins.) It may be said these are mere suppositions, and 
not probable ones either. That is not the point. In a discus- 
sion like the present, where the dates in detail are not given, 
we have a right to make any arrangement of them, provided it 
be barely possible, which will satisfy the conditions of the 
chronology; nor has any man a right to deny the "historical 
character " of the narrative, unless he can prove that any siu-h 
adjustment whatever is utterly impossible. He may deem tlio 
circumstances unusual, or even unlikely, and so may style tlicni 
" certainly incredible," if he pleases ; but so would have been 
many other undoubted facts in daily life, unless the particulars 
had been afforded. 

(2.) It appears that the genealogical list in question was 
made up at the time of Jacob's death, seventeen years later, 
(Gen. xlvii, 28,) when there is no difficulty in belieWng that 
Judah had grandsons. This is evident to us from the facts (a) 
that in the hurry and confusion of a migration like that of 
Jacob's family, no minute list of this sort would be likely to Ic 
thought of; whereas, upon the j)atriarch's decease, when per- 
haps these very members of his lineage were the exact ones 
gathered to his obsequies, it would be eminently in place ; (see 
Gen. i, 8;) (J) that the same names occur in the parallel li--ts 
of Exodus i, 1-5 ; vi, 14, 15 ; (verses 16-25 are from a different 
source, showing the personal descent of Moses and Aaron;') 
Kumbers xxvi, 5-49, (except that the sons of Eliab are speciticl 
in verse 9 to show the descent of Ivorah, and that Oliad 'm 
accidentally omitted among the sons of Simeon in verse 1-, 
while the descendants of Joseph are detailed in verses 25-37, 
and those of Benjamin in 38-41,) which all relate to a later 
date than the removal to Egypt ; (c) that there is evidence of 
other great grandsons of Jacob in this list, (Gen. xlvi, 8-27,) 
Bome of whom at least could not well have been born prior tu ih*-^ 
demise of that patriarch, namely, [i] Eliab, the son of VaW'-h 

|CG3.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 291 

«yuin. xxvi, S,) -whose name appears to have slipped out of the 
liit of Tteiiben's family, (on which supposition we avoid the 
ji.-cossity of including Jacob himself among his own posterity 
in the number seventy,) and [ii] especially among the sons of 
IV-iijamin, (verse 21,) we find Gera, and Xaaman, and Ard or 
A<!«lrir, who were sons of Bela, (1 Chron. viii, 3, •!,) and Mup- 
j.ini, (namely, Shuppim, or Shuphan, etc..) and Iluppim, (that is, 
Iliiphan, Xum. xxvi, 30,) the son of Ir, (1 Chron. vii, 12,) that 
iii, perhaps of Becher, (for the name does not appear elsewhere 
in the lists,) also [iii] Heber and Malchiel, the grandsons of 
Ashcr, (vei-se 17 ;) finally {d) that the list in Genesis cannot be 
dated very much later than the migration to Egypt, for it does 
not contain the name of Jochebed, the daughter of Levi, (born 
in Egypt in her father's old age, however, Xum. xxvi, 59,) nor 
I'f Zabdi, or Zimri, son of the twin brother of Pharez, (Josh, 
vii, 1; 1 Chron. ii, 6,) not to mention other great grandsons uf 
Jacob, (ISTum. xxvi, 29-36.) We thus avoid Colenso's objec- 
tions to Hengstenberg's solution of the difhculty, namely, 
tint the questionable descendants are spoken of frolep- 
iicalhj^ as being " already in the loins of their father " Jacob 
rit the time of the descent into Egypt ; as Avell as Colenso's 
<juestion why, on the supposition that the list was made up 
of such descendants as were family heads, the other great 
prandsons of Jacob were not included in it : the reason for 
the insertion of some and the omission of others was not, (as 
lie assumes, page G9,) " plainly because the former are sup- 
posed to have been born in the land of Canaan, and the 
latter not," (for then the sons of Joseph born in Egypt, verse 
-■'•, would likewise have been omitted,) but because they were not 
Iwni at the time the list was originally made. True, the sacred . 
^^'ritc^, both in Genesis and in Exodus, (i, 1,) uses the expres- 
sion, "these are the names of the children of Israel, which 
Mme into Egypt f but Dr. Colenso, as a professed exegete, 
ouu'ht to know better than to stickle (p. 01) for a nicety of this 
l^ind in phraseology, especially when the context itself expressly 
'iiontions childi-en that had never journeyed to Egypt at all, 
but were born there. Indeed, he elsewhere admits (p. G7) 
^»at " the narrative lays no stress whatever on the mere fact 
of their 'coming to' Egypt, in the case of Joseph's sons, as if 
ihey had come because their father had come. The fact of 

292 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

their being born in Egypt, or rather Icing in Egypt, at \\\U 
time, is all that the writer takes account of." Yet witli cliar- 
acteristic captiousness he immediately proceeds to find fault 
with the sacred writer, that, " though wishing to sum up the 
Beventy souls under one category, he uses (inaccurately, as lit,- 
himself admits) the same expression, 'came into Egypt.'" Tlic 
language here is not an admission of inaccuracy^ but is simplv 
" epexcgetical," or explanatory of the writer's own meaning."^ 

"We have entered into the minutife of this topic, not because 
we deem it particularly important to the truthfulness of the 
Pentateuch in general to prove that this or that name in a li.^t 
contained in it stands therewith mathematical precision ; but 
because it is a case representative of a class of difficulties wliirh 
we admit to be somewhat (and necessarily so) frequent in tlie 
Bible records. Oriental history has always been largely based 
upon genealogical accounts, that have in many cases been 
current orally for ages before being reduced to writing. (The 
Hebrew word for history^ in fact, is ni";'piiri, "generations," that 
is, pedigree.) Ilence, there have unavoidably arisen discrep- 
ancies, omissions, or redundancies in the details, which the 
annalist who employed the materials did not feel called upon in 
his day to rectify, even if he had possessed (as he frequently did 

* In tho same carping spirit Dr. Colenso adds: "So he sums up, inaccurately, 
Jaeob himself, as cue of tho ' scTenty souls' among his children in verse 8: 'Tbcso 
are the names of the cliildrcu of Israel, which came into Egypt, Jacob and his son-f.' 
And he includes him again among the sons of Leah in verse 15 : 'All the souls d 
his sons and his daughters Averc thirty and three,' which they would not be with- 
out reckoning Jacob, as mentioned in verse 8." How sharp is the ex-tutor of Har- 
row in grammar as well as in arithmetic! Yet he is not able to see how tl;o 
■words, '• Jacob and his sons,'' in one of the verses in question can be parsed with- 
out making the sacred penman guilty of the absurdity of saying that Jacob was 
"one of his own sons, nor to add up the numbers in the other without involving t!;e 
equal absurdity of calling Jacob one of the sons of Leiih. Perhaps it will relievo 
his love of exactitude in science if we suggest that the obnoxious words in verse 3 
may be regarded as parenthetically thrown in to express the fact that Jacob canio 
along with his sons, while onr suggestion of the clerical oversight of the name of 
Eliab, the son of Pallu, among tho sons of Reuben, may excuse Jacob from por- 
Eonally standing in place of liis missing descendant. Dr. Colenso, in a foot-note, 
(p. 67,) is about to correct the use of tho word "daughters" in tho verso Lvt 
quoted, reminding tlio writer that Jacob had but one daughter, Dinah; but h'^ 
suddenly recollects that '• the Hebrew idiom allows of [a schoolmaster wlio rnps 
Hoses so immercifully o^Tr the knuckles for faults of style, ought to have been 
more careful in his own English than to use this superfluity] this" use of lan- 
guage, and he forbears. JItlrcw idiom! Why did he not say, common sense? 

lSr.3.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 293 

iu»l) the means of doing so ■with certuintj. It "was sufficient 
\oT his purpose that tlieir accuracy, to all the uses and intents 
hiui in v^e^v, was generally acknowledged by those among 
whom lie lived, and for whose benefit he wrote ; for him to have 
made corrections in them would have really weakened the 
Mithority of his annals, while to have introduced discussions of 
thoir minute parts would have exhibited a finical pedantry 
iit(('rly foreign to the spirit of those sinlple ages* He inserted 
llicin just as they had been handed down, without either 
qtiestioning or ■ vouching for their unessential particulars. 
How preposterous then is it to expect modern believers in 
the Bible to ferret out and explain, at this far distant time, 
the petty inaccuracies which keen-eyed skeptics detect, or 
fjincy they detect, in these documents ! If this is the way in 
which Dr. Colenso intends to proceed through the Holy Scrip- 
tures, we warrant him beforehand tliat he will be able to find 
plenty of flaws in the numbers, dates, and names with which 
those writings abound, not only in the Pentateuch and Joshua,, 
hut still more copiously in Kings, Chronicles, and even in the 
t:</iioalogies of the Xew Testament, with which to cram his 
future volumes. We Avarn him also that the public will prob- 
alily reward him at last as Apollo did the critic, who, having 
(ietlicated to the god of letters the faults which he had discov- 
frcd in a poem, was set to the task of culling out all the kernels 
f'f wheat from a sack of newly-threshed grain, and was finally 
J-rc-scnted with the chaff iov his 2)ains. • 

2. The sj>ace at " the door of the Tabernacle " (estimated at 
t'i^'hteen feet wide) was entirely too small to contain " all the 
''■'"jrerjation of the children of Israel,^'' (supposing only the 
*»x hundred thousand males fit for war to be intended,) icho 
■"■t" rqieatedhj stated to have been gathered there. (Lev. viii, 
^-4 ; Exod. x-ii, 6 ; xxi, 2, 3 ; ISTiim. xiv, 5 ; i, IS ; Lev. xxiv, 14 ; 
-^'um. XV, 36 ; xvi, 19, 25, 47 ; x, 3, 4.) Nor,- we venture to 
^ert, can an intelligent*Sunday-school child bo found who 
""figines that this mass of persons were ever expected to 
^"-etnble within this limited compass. Of course as many as 
|"'^;ible crowded into the place appointed, and the rest got as 
'HJir as they could. But the author insists, " As the text says 
"i'-tinctly, 'at the door of the tabernacle,' they must have come 
^'^tihin the court,''^ wliich was itself only some ninety feet 

i'oL'iaii Semes, Vol. XV.— 19 

2{)4 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

broaa. Accordinii;]}', he has no difficulty in making out an 
it'bsolute impossibility in the case, 

Allowinci; two feet in Avidth for each full-grown man, nine men 
•could just liave stood in front of it. Suj^posiiiGf then that "all the 
congregation " of adult males in the prime of life had given duo 
heed to the divine summous, and had hastened to take their st.nrii! 
side by side, as closely as jiossible, in front, not merely of the door^ 
but of the whole €7id of the tabernacle, in which the door wu^, 
they would have reached, allowing eighteen inches between ea^h 
rank of nine men, for a distance of more than one hundred thou- 
sand feet, in fact, nearly twenty miles ! 

He then goes on to show, by means of a similar nice calcula- 
tion, that neither the entire space within the court in front of 
the tabernacle, nor, in fine, the whole court itself, conld have 
held any considerable fraction of the people. Of course not; 
and neither Jehovah, who gave the directions for the assem- 
blages in question, nor ]\[oses, who published them, could have 
supposed that anybody wonld so understand the requirement. 
The multitude would take a common-sense view of the order, 
and assemble as best they might, just as every reader sponta- 
neously regards the occurrence to have taken place. Docs Dr. 
Colenso deem the writer of the Pentateuch to liave been, nut 
only a knave in attempting to palm ofi" an absurdity upon the 
world, but also a fool in meaning to say that the total popu- 
lace, or anything like it, was absolutely crowded within these 
dimensions, or in expecting his readers to believe him if he 
did? Tlie whole objection is so frivolous and quibbling that 
we hardly think it worth while to refute it formally ; yet, lest 
we should be charged with remissness, we will examine it a 
little further. In the first place, then, we observe that out vi 
all the passages which Colenso cites on this point there are 
but two occasions named in which it is expressly stated that all 
the congregation was gathered or required to assemble at the 
spot in question. In the next place, it was very easy to 
enlarge the area in front of the tabernacle on such special occa- 
sions by removing or spreading apart the curtain-walls of the 
court inclosing that structure. In the third place, all wlio 
were assembled in view of tlie designated place, however far vx 
wide the concourse should extend, might and would properly 
be said to have met there, or to have complied with the terins 
of the summons. Finally, it is not necessary to assume that 

lbC3.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 295 

Anvtliinf* like tlie whole number summoned were actually 
•.n%cnt. Those wlio conveniently conld, who chose, or who 
xMTc able to be tirst on the ground, gathered there; and as all 
vere invited, they represented the rest. Similar meetings are 
vi constant occurrence, even with us, and are spoken of in pre- 
i-.-clv similar terms. A town meeting or mass meeting is 
allied in front of some public building, in village or city ; and 
ahiiough not a tithe or hundredth part of the inhabitants can 
tret anywhere near the spot, much less reach the entrance, or 
ifidced ever think of attending at all, nevertheless, the proceed- 
ings .are announced as the public act of the population at 
l.irge, without counting or considering who took a personal and 
uiroct share in them. 

The same answer may be given to Colenso's next and anal- 
' -ous objection, that Moses and Joshua could not possibly have 
f-puken or read before all the congregation, including the women, 
'•hildren, and strangers, (Deut. i, 1 ; v, 1 ; Josh, viii, 34, 35.) 
ik-ro, however, there is really no impossibility at all. Moses or 
•b-liua might easily Sjpeah or read hrfore any conceivable mul- 

• iiu'le ; that is, he might utter the words in their presence. If it 
had been said that absolutely all these individuals were actually 
:i.-scnibled at one time within the sound of liis single voice, then, 
'•"•c grant, the statement would have been incredible and untrue. 
I >r, Colenso indeed seeks to impose this meaning upon the text ;* 
but it is not in fact there, nor does the language used fairly 
imply it. The tables are turned upon the objector, and we 

•lie says: "It may bo said, indccil, tliat only a portioa of this great host was 
■'•vily J, resent, though 'all Israel ' is spoken of. [Note the vagueness of this expres- 
' :■'■] And this might have been allov/cd [mark the admission] without derogating 
'•'vra the general historical value of the book, [Why then introduce this as one of the 
niTid objections to its "historical character?"] though, of course, not without impoach- 
•■■;' iho literal accuracy of the Scripture narratir\-e, which by some is so strenuously 
-••■iinUtined. [It is rather the truthfulness of the facts and language, 2'>0'pularly 
•-'•.■Ivrstood, that is generally contended for.] But the words above quoted froin 
• ; *''ua are so comprehensive that they will not allow of [sic] this. [On the contrary, 

• •■•■■i apjwars to us to be their natural and only common-sense interpretation.] Wo 
- >'w Huppose [for nothing of the kind is directly asserted] that, at least, tlio great 
'••';•■ of the congregation was present, [which may have been true,] and not only 
5-'> * tit, but able to hear the words of awful moment which Joshua addressed to 
'^ "i, [though none but a madman could have intended to asse-rt tins of two 
t-;;..jaH of persons.] Nor can it bo supposed that ho read them first to one party 
*-'' ih<a to another, etc., till 'all the congregation' had heard them." [But the 
♦''•lors may have assisted him in thus repeating the words.] 

296 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

have a right to demand that one who is so teclmical and exact 
in holding others to the explicit terms of passages, shall himself 
adhere strictly to what is written. But Ave do not insist upon 
this. Every attentive and considerate reader will understand 
these statements of the sacred writer in the sense ahove vindi- 
cated ; just as a whole community is often said to have turned 
out to hear a noted speaker, although comparatively few may 
be able to get access to the room ; or (still more analogously) a- 
a preacher may properly be said to have addressed innumera- 
ble multitudes in the open air, when only those within a mod- 
crate distance of the stand could have distinguished his words. 
(Compare Mark ii, 2.) Moreover, Moses and Joshua ha(^ the 
seventy elders at hand, who doubtless contributed materially 
to the dissemination of what was uttered. 

3. The camp was so great in extent that it vmst have Iccn 
impossiUe for the j^ricsts to reach its outshirts in airier to carry 
avKiy the offal of the sacrifices, (Lev. iv, 11, 12,) or for the peo- 
ple to p)crform ihe dally necessities of life, (Dent, xxiii, 12-1-4,) 
The author estimates that two millions of people closely packcil 
together would cover three square miles, or if less uncomforta- 
bly crowded, they would occupy an area of twelve miles square. 
In citlier case the priest would be unable to travel daily from 
the center to the circumference with the entire carcass (flesh, 
head, limbs, skin, entrails, and all) of the bullocks required io 
be sacrificed and then burned without the camp as a sin-ofler- 
ing for individual oilenses. AVe opine that it would require an 
extraordinarily able-bodied man for a priest, if he had to carry 
such a load but once and for a few rods' distance only. It is 
wonderful that the idea did not occur to so acute a thinker a^ 
Dr. Colenso, that t?ie pi'iest migfd employ others to carry it 
for him ! (The word used is ii'^'^in, literally, cause to go forth, 
but spoken of bringing out in general, though not necessarily, 
of course, with one's own hand ; see Gen. viii, 17. The pnest 
was at liberty to obtain all the assistance he required or saw lit 
to deputize.) He certainly would be obliged to do so whether 
the camp was large or small. The regulation as to the disposal 
of human ordure obvjously applied (as the text itself shows) 
only to the armed males, and was sufficiently fulfilled by a witli- 
drawal to some retired spot; in a word, it was the nsual sani- 
tary order for soldici-s and not for families. Our right rev- 

lgC3.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 297 

freiid author's objections are becoming somctbing below the 

4. ''^It is surprising " that the number of adult maUs who 
vdid the poU-toic (half a shekel, after the shekel of the sanc- 
tuurv, Exod. XXX, 12-1-i,) for the construction of the taber- 
tnicle and its vessels, (Exod, xxviii, 20,) should have heen ide7iti- 
odly the same (603,550) as it ivas vjhcn the census ivas taken 
lifter the erection of the tabernacle, (Num. i, 46.) The author 
has to labor hard in order to make out any great point of diffi- 
culty here at all."^ "We will frame our reply in such a manner 
ha to avoid the objections which he raises to the solutions of 
Kurtz and others. 

(1.) It would have been still more surprising if after so short 
an intervalf the numbers had varied considerably. Dr. Colenso 
Would doubtless in that case have brought pi'ccisely this oppo- 
bite complaint against the sacred writer, that he had contra- 
dicted his own statistics. 

(2.) llie fgures tally 'because the two events were coincident. 
Tliat the number of the tax-payers was taken from the sum in 
the poll-list is not only obvious from their exact correspondence, 
I'lit it is also apparent from the facts and phraseology of the 
Jiarrative. Moses, while on the Mount, was commanded, 
*' ^yhen thou takest the sum of the children of Israel, then shall 
they give," etc., (Exod. xxx, 12.) Accordingly we read that there 
was collected " half a shekel for every one that went to be num- 

•Tlio author criticises Moses for using the phrase "shekel of the sanctuary," 
^l^xn the tabernacle was erected. His exception would be better taken, were 
''•■• able himself to inform us what difi'erence in value this peculiar epithet made in 
i-Hj coin or weight in question. It is a pure assumption on his part that the term 
^i it3 origin in the usages of the tabernacle cultus. It may have been a dis- 
l-'-'-iiOii borrowed from the Eirj'ptian temples,^ wlicre the standards of the priestly 
ti^Uj may naturally have dltlered from "government weight," like the modem 
'*r;ations of Troy, avoirdupois, and apothecaries' weight. (Compare the different 
•■'''if^ths of the sacred and common cubit.) Or it may have grown out of some un- 
rt»fnvii observance connected with the Hebrew form of worship already established. 

fTho hypercritical autlior is inexact in his own "historical" statements. He 
^'vrts that the qensus took place "half a year after" the half-shekol assessment. 
*'■'-' f-'Hiier occurred on the first day of tlio second month in the second year after 
'^■'-' y.xcxins, (Xum. i, 18,) that is, about tl)e first of ifay; the latter was ordered 
•^--Hk' Moses's first stay of forty days on Sinai, which must have beea not "sii 
'..' ^..vcp. months before," but about June or July previous; while of its ccmipletion 
t" <luto wliatever prior to the census is recorded, for reasons that will presently 

298 Colenso on the Penfatench. [April, 

J<?r^(^ " of the C03,550 adult males, (Exod. xxx\'iii, 26.) At 
%vliat time, then, -were tliey numbered? Evidently at the cen- 
sus spoken of in Xum. i, where the same sum total occurs ; 
ncn^ is any other numhering alluded to. But was there no li-t 
kept of those who paid? Unquestionably there was, and we 
have it incorporated into^he report of the number common to 
both transactions ; for each referred to the same class of per- 
sons, the male Israelites above twenty years of age.* Still, how 
could the silver contributed be used for tlie construction of the 
sanctuary, unless the collection had been completed preWously \ 
The collection of the money and the fabrication of the taber- 
nacle no doubt went on at the same time, as is always the ca~e 
in public works ; and it was foreseen that the enrollment would 
at length be required in order to ascertain who were in arrears 
and enforce payment. Thus the two proceedings naturally 
came out together, and identical numbers rusulted.f 

5. Whence couldihe Israelit-cs have so suddenly procured ttnts 
(Exod. xvi, 10) and arms (Exod. xiii, 1'$)) for such a vast host? 
The author expatiates upon the difficulty of providing accoiu- 
modations and weapons for an army inconiparably less than 

* The entire ari,'u:nont of Dr. Colonso really pertinent to this subject 13 contained i:; 
the following seutence, \vhich after all he ventures only to throw into an interrogative 
or conjectural form : '• Is there any reasonable ground for supposing that the number 
of those who contributed the silver for the building of the sanctuary would not have 
been noted and romenibcred as accurately as that of those of -whom the census wa? 
taken?" His whule faUacy lies in imagining that the transactions were separate 
in time, independent in connection, and that distinct accounts were kept of each : 
whereas they were intimately connected throughc^ut, were in fact simultaneous in 
their final execution, and tiio records of their results were mutually compared and 
verified, having doubtless passed through the hands of the same officers. 

I As the relative value of the "talent" and half-shekel can only be estimated 
from the passage in qnc-^tion, (E.vod. x.t.-cviii, 25-23,) we have no means of determin- 
ing whether the silver apph.jd to the construction of the 100 "sockets," and other 
fijslures of the tabernacle as there related, was derived e.xclusively from the tax 
under consideration. ^Ve may imagine that coin (supposing this to have been of 
Egyptian mintage) would not be melted down for this purpose until all the bullion 
of the profuse popular voluntary i^.>rings (among which silver is expressly mcntio:!e'l 
Exod. ixxv, 5, 24) was exhausted. It would seem that this latter was employ..d 
in casting the first CO sockets for the exterior inclosure of the tabernacle, (Kxc i- 
xxivi, 24-3G,) so that but a (the spontaneous payments) of the tax-fund weul- 
bo required for the remaining 40 sockets of the interior structure. The balantv, 
when collecled at ilie final census, would replace the bullion contributions with co:n 
for other or future exp<?usc.s. Tliosc minute comparisons show that the sacred nar- 
rative will bear the closest inspection. 

\Sbo.] ' Colenso on the Pentateuch. 299 

tiiov are stated to have formed ; and we Americans just now 
bi'jw something of tlie embarra^ssnients to which even govern- 
ment resources are subjected in such emergencies. "\Ye suggest, 
l.owevcr, several considerations that seem to us to relieve the 
narrative of incredibility on this score. 

(1.) It is not necessary to suppose (for the language of the 
ti'Xt does not expressly say this) that e\evj family was furnished 
with a tent, or every soldier with complete armor; many no 
doubt, especially at first, were biit sorrily equipped. The nar- 
rative indeed all along implies that they expected, were willing 
\o undergo, nay, actually experienced many inconveniences, pri- 
vations, and hardships of this sort. We must by no means 
jjieasm'e the accommodations of this nature required by a well- 
appointed army of our own time and country, with the pro- 
v-.Tbially scanty stock of furniture and outfit of an ancient 
( 'rientiil. Especially would a people originally and essentially 
nomadic (notwithstanding their partial domiciliation in Goshen) 
jind these matters the most trivial obstacles to their removal. 
1m Kgypt, where no rain ever falls, persons of all ages and 
(•'•rulitions habitually sleep out of doors, and the acclimated 
Israelites, of course, were prepared to do the same until they 
should have an opportunity to lit up tents. As to weapons, they 
>* ere far from being the unarmed slaves which the author holds 
tlit'in to have been ; and even if they had been, their Egyptian 
neighbors were at last but too eager to get rid of them (Exod. xii, 
31-30) to withhold from them as many of these as they wished. 

(-.) The Hebrews w^-e- not only traditionally looking for a 
rotiirn from Egypt during this generation, (Gen. xv, 13, 14; 
', ~-i,) for which they must therefore have been somewhat pre- 
paring; but during several preceding weeks they had been 
tarnestly anticipating a release, while Moses was contending 
v>'ith the tyrant for their deliverance. In fact they had been 
t'X]>rossly warned some days before to have all their goods- 
l''»cked and everything ready for starting on a given signal, the 
^•-'uth of the first-born of their oppressors. 

This last named circumstance obviates another of our 
author's difiiculties,* that "the story" allows "one single day, 

Kconoinv of room, as well as logical coiuimiity, requires lis to consider under 
'*■•'> lioad cojrnate objections which Colenso expands, as if for elloct, through several 
•.i-i>l always consecutive) chapters. 

300 CoUnso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

rather twelve hours " only for all this immense preparation to 
be made, and especially for the enormous number of lambs to 
be dressed and eaten in the individual residences of the Isra- 
elites, scattered throughout the entire extent of the land of 
Goshen, involving likewise the necessity of sundry notices cir- 
culated separately to each person. Had the bishop read witli 
a little more attention the narrative whicKlie so harshly judge-, 
he would have perceived that the order communicated through 
Moses to select the paschal lamb on the tenth day of the month, 
(Exod, xii, 3,) must liave been accompanied with such expliinu- 
tions as to what was about to occur on the fourteenth and fol- 
lomng day as would not only be a sufficient intimation to the 
elders and people to hold themselves in readiness against tlic 
crisis of the wonderful scenes atthe time transpiring, but induce 
them to arrange all the details of the passover and ensuing 
flight. It is true, the chapter in wliich this premonition is 
fomid comes in after the threat of the final catastrophe to the 
Egyptians at midnight of the same day on which it was puh- 
licly denounced ; but this is done merely in order not to break 
the continuity of the account of the plagues by this statement, 
which would also be thereby severed from its connection with 
the actual observance of the festival, as related in an orderly 
manner in verse 21, etc. They thus had four or five days' 
warning, under circumstances powerfully conducive to their 
expeditious preparation. 

The same reasoning applies to the author's warm protest 
against the rapid and importune exit and traveling of the mot- 
ley concourse of men, women, and children, flocks and hcrd:^. 
out into the arid, fuodless desert for several consecutive day> 
under all these disadvantages." That the march was a forced 

♦"Remembering, as I do, the confusion in my own small household of thirty or 
forty persons when oqco we were obliged to fly at dead of night — having hoen 
roused from our beds with a false alarm, that an invading Zulu force had entered 
the colony, had cvadr-d the Knglish troops sent to meet them, and was making i'^ 
way direct for our station, killing right and left as it came along — I do not hesitate 
to declare this statement to be utterly incredible and impossible." Calmer readers, 
however, not troubled witli the nightmare recollection of such a fright, have had no 
hesitation for thousands of years in regarding this whole history as perfectly natural 
and trustworthy. The bishop himself does not seem to think the two incidents 
quite parallel; yet, it wouhl appear, his domestic establisliment succeeded on the 
instant in making good their escape. His graphic reminiscence teUs against his own 

j<,',3.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 301 

cno is manifest on the face of tlie account ; and that it was 
atlt'iulod with much confusion and individual annoyance, no one 
I* «ll>|)osed to deny. Tliat it was possible, howe%-er, has been 
attested by not a few wholesale desertions of home and house- 
!i..ld comforts by the inhabitants of large districts in ancient 
nnil modern times under the pressure of great emergencies. 
N(tt to recite the speedy irruption, and as hasty decampment 
,.f Oriental hordes spoken of in history, the avalanches of Goths 
:iii(l Huns, the successive surges of crusaders, the invading 
Ix-vies of Mongols; we may refer to a recent instance in })oint 
nearer home — the expeditious stampede of the citizens of Beau- 
furt en, masse when the " Yankee " gunboats hove in sight. 
DLshop Ct'lenso and his kindred gentry of Great Britain may 
Ix.s.-ibly be incredulous of the fact that their aristocratic con- 
u^'ncrs of the South could have vacated the premises thus 
iticontinently, " bag and baggage," at so short a notice ; but to 
U5 it is a striking illustration of the " incredible " alacrity with 
^^•llich the servile pojmlation (such he deems them) of Goshen 
Juight {a fortiori) liave poured forth, at the command and pro- 
vidential preparation of Jehovah, toward the land of freedom/ 
7. How could the immense Jlocl's and herds of the Israelites 
^-nv suljsisted in the wilderness ? This is Dr. Colenso's constantly 
r-.-ciirring objection when all other methods of disproving the 
Mosaic narrative fail, . How numerous these sheep and goats 
■^> <-Tc, the narrative itself, to be sure, does not state ; but this 
' :aiiient arithmetician is never at a loss for figures, and so he 
< 'iiijmtes, on the basis of one male firstling as a paschal lamb 
: -■' {-very family of fifteen persons out of the two million souls 
"■! the Hebrew population, that they must have had" at least two 
''•nilions of sheep, and cattle in proportion, (that is, we suppose, 
;• / lil/itum.) He then quotes travelers' descriptions of the utter 
^''■rility of the region tlu-ough which the Exodus lay,* and 
j'-iiniiphantly declares the impossibility of foddering or water- 
•■'- all these beasts, especially among the bleak mountains of 
^•"•d, where they are represented to hav^ been herded for 

* i''>r this purpose he cites canou Slauley in particular, on thu presumption that 
« 'loubtless cannot be suspected of unduly fnvoring the scriptural account. In 
t'-.i oayo, however, the bi-^hop is obliged to combat in detail the arguments of one 
* *j his been on the ground, and gives the results of personal observation. We are 
-'t *waro of any traveler or writer familiar with Oriental pasturage who has dis- 
J'-V-l the narrative on this ground. 

302 Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

nearly a year. Kow were we of the author's mathcmutirul 
tui-n of belief, "vve might justly dismiss this whole calculation 
as being conjectural in its premises, and uncertain in ull it-; 
steps ; but we will simply call attention to two or three otLor 
assumptions in it which wholly vitiate its conclusion. 

(1.) The lambs in question for the first passover in Goshoii 
may readily have been procured of the Egyptians, and tho-e 
for the second paschal celebration could have been obtained 
from the same or other surrounding regions. For, 

(2.) It is a fact to which travelers generally allude, that 
large numbers of sheep are pastured to this day by the Ara1)> 
of this and the neigliboring countries. Since, 

(3.) There are numerous comparatively fertile spots scattered 
throughout tliis peninsula, (see Deuteronomy x, T,) and more 
would doubtless be discovered were its interior fully explonM. 
although the route usually pursued by travelers is for most v\ 
the year represented as generally barren. And, 

(4.) It is not to be imagined that these flocks and herds were 
kept penned up in- the immediate proximity of the camp ; thev 
.were unquestionably dispersed, as is the modern practice in 
eastern countries, over the face of tlie whole territory, in 
charge of shepherds and herdsmen, who roved from place t" 
place in search of pasturage, but kept up communication wiib 
the central encampment.* 

* A -vvriter in tho London Athmceum, who has liimself traveled in Pa]e«tint?. 
meets Colenso's ohjection in the same way: 

Tho second jioint supposed to " demonstrate " an error in the sacred narrative ii 
tho estimated size of tho camp in tho wilderness : " not mucli inferior in com p."..-.', 
we must suppose, to London." It is assumed that the whole two millions of J'---^- 
pie were trrouped close toircther in a camp. Tliis is opposed alike to tho w!; ■•• 
tenor of the narrative and to common sense. Any one who has had an opi-'f- 
tunity of visiiinp: the f,'reat Arab tribes of the Syrian desert can see that tho hisiu'v^ 
difficulties are hero purely imaginary. The Israelites had immense flocks y:; \ 
herds, (I'xod. xii, 38 ;) these, from the necessity of tiie case, and like the tii^'k:* ■ • 
the modern Bedawin, were scattered far and wide over the peninsula, and pri •••- 
bly over the plain nortiiward. On one occasion I rode for two succe.-sive day-? -^ 
a straight lino tliroutjh the flocks of a section of the Anazch tribe, and the eucaii.;^ 
meut of the chief was then at a noted fountain thirty miles distant at right ai;-'' ■; 
to my course ; yet tlio crmntry was swarming with men and women, boys :■"■■ • 
girls, looking after tiie catlk'. In hke manner tho great bulk of the Isra-'l ■• * 
would be scattered over the desert. The camp would tims bo a mere nuol- •:- ■ 
large, no doubt, but not approaching tho exaggerated estimate of Bishop Cd';- ' 
Yet, being the headiiuartt-rs uf the nation, containing the tabernacle, the ]'r:' -'■ 
and tho chiefs, and forming tho rallying-point foT the warriors, it was the '■:■■'■ 
place with which tho sacred liistorian was concerned. This view, which is ua!-''- • 
scriptural, and in accordance with tlio universal practice of Oriental nomads, sw^' ; • 
away a host of difliculties conjured up by the imagination and then supporic>i ij 
tiio arithmetic of Bishop Colenso. 

iSC3.1 Colenso on the Pentateuch. ^ 303 

7. The nwnber of the immigrants icas disproportioned to the 
f.-fi-nt of the country to he possessed; much less wa^ there any 
J.iiujer of their not hehuj alAe to hold the wild leasts in cheeky 
.K\<>J. xxiii, 29.) It is sufficient to reply: 

( I.) The grant of territory to the Israelites properly extended 
:*r..!ii the confines of Egypt to the borders of Asia Minor, and 
frviii the Mediterranean to the Euphrates, (Gen. xv, 18 ; Exod. 
wiii, 31 ; Dent, xi, 2i ;) and this was the actual extent of the 
vjnpire under David and Solomon. 

\^1) The population of Canaan proper or Palestine appears 
i'l h\ter times to have greatly exceeded that of the Canaanites 
.'iiiil original Israelites combined ; and it is probable that it is 
< .ij>ahle at the present day of supporting an equal number of 

!3.) Nevertheless, we frequently read of the ravages of "^ild 
ur;!iuals in the scriptural history, (for example: 2 Kings ii, 24; 
.Tuilg, xiv, 5 ; 2 Sara, xxiii, 20 ; 1 Kings xiii, 24 ;) nor are they 
iTifrequent at the present day in Palestine, notwithstanding the 
:>'><«.'nce of the forests in which they anciently lurked. 

S. The numher of first-lorn males (22,273) among the Israel- 
'"''■-V (Xum. iii, 43) is entirely too small for a total population 
•f ticokfnillions. We answer: 

(1.) The text containing this isolated statement may have 
l-^wmo corrupt, as numbers in tlie Hebrew copy frequently 
Jiave, in consequence of their having been originally written 
^'V means of letters. for figures, which were easily mistaken. 

<,-.) There may have been some peculiar method of comput- 
••'■';: or reo^isterincr these first-borns so as not to exhibit the 
■^-uul proportion of the population at large. -What this 
j"-culiarity probably was we shall endeavor to show in the 

-•• The seventy persons of 'JacoVs family could not have 
^'*''rtascd in the course of four ge7ieratw7is, or 215 years, to 
» '-^o millions of soids. "We reply : 

(1.) There is really no impossibility in the case even thus 
**^te<l, as several instances are on record of an equal rate of 
•'■^■rei\i;e, especially the noted case of the mutineers of the ship 
•'•■'iiuy, who settled on Pitcairn's Island, and intermarried 
^'^•' the natives. But there are several circumstances that 
»!'"Tild lead us to expect an extraordinary increase in the 


304 Colenso on the PentaUuch. [Ajiril, 

present case. {a) A special blessing was promised the 
Hebrews in tliis respect, (Gen. xiij 2 ; xxv, 23 ; xxviii, 14, etc..) 
^Yhicll the history informs lis was remarkably fulfilled during tlir 
interval nnder consideration, (Gen. xlvii, 27; Exod. i, T.) 
(5) The fecnndity of women in Egypt was proverbial, (as thr 
author allows,)* "^and the llebrewesses excelled even the Egyj,. 
tian mothers in this regard, (Exod. i, 19.) (c) Although in 
general the Exodus was in the fourth generation from tli'> 
mi"-ration to Egypt,t yet in many families there had been \\ 
larger number of generations \% and it is certain fromnmnerou-^ 
indications that these successive generations continned to ?/>•■ 
simultaneously^ and were prolific to an unusual old arjt. 
{d) Early marriages have always been the custom in the Ea-t. 
and among the Hebrews in particnlar a nnmerous offspriii- 
was universally favored. (e) Polygamy was imdoubtodlv 
practiced to a considerable extent among them, and Egyptia:-. 
females were at hand (especially those of the lower caste) 'o 
serve as concubines or secondary wives to the Israelitish hea'I- 
of families. 

(2.) It is altogether probable that the two millions in ques- 
tion were not cxcli;sively of Hebrew extraction, that is, :'•- 
strictly the lineal descendants of the seventy individuals con> 
posing Jacob's immediate family who migrated to Eg}i")t. It 
is nowhere ex|)ressly stated that they were so : Colenso, indc^<l, 
thus interprets the sacred narrative; but we are not bound t- 
look at it through his unfortunate eyes. The accuracy of tlio^ 
six hundred thousand able bodied men who marched out ol 
Egypt, (evidently a proleptical round number taken from tl:- 
later enumeration,) upon which the estimate of the entire l'-'-'^ 
is based, is vouched for by the exact sum, (603,5.50,) yielded by 
the census soon afterward held ; and this again is contirnii-i 
by the detailed mnnbers as given under each tribe. This latter 
mode of registry also proves that all included in it were i;i 
some sense accounted as belonging to one or another oi the 

* Producing: in some cases four and even five at a 'birth. (Aristotle, U- ■ 

Anim. viii, 5, 1.) 

•f In substantiating this fact, Colenso has corroborated Gen. xv, 16. ^^^ 

X Joshua, however, was not the tenth in descent from Ephraim, as apparent^; 
Etatod in 1 Chron. vii, 22-27 ; for the lineage recommences with Laadan, who w&.< 
probably another son of Ei)hraim. (Browne, Ordo Scechrum, p. 306.) 

j»<:3, Colenso on the Pentateuch. 305 

'.ri!.;il divisions of the people : but it does not necessarily follow 
:!;at tlit-y were all absolutely full blooded or original Israelites ; 
•' .'v may in very many instances have been aclojyttd members of 
•' «• llolirewcomuiunity, either as proselytes, domestics, relatives, 

7 ^vMlpathizers, whose attachment was so strong as to induce 
•.!..-i(i to link their fortunes to that of the fugitives. jS'ay, the 
r;i'jH)sition is not all unreasonable that the mass of the Egyp- 
\\A\\ ])opulation of Goshen had become so intertwined in inter- 
t't, ati'ection, and association with tlie Israelitish settlers in 
t:.i-ir midst, during the lapse of more than two centuries of 
rviiiarkable prosperity and harmonious intercourse, as gradually 
to have melted in a great measure into one community with 
't *.!iO!n, for it must be borne in mind that the restrictive enact- 
.'wtiiU which created and maintained the invidious distinction 
<r Jew and Gentile did not then exist; and as the Egyptians 
:!jt,iii.-elves, according to several ancient authorities, likewise 
I'raeticed circumcision universally, there was no outward barrier 
t ' .-^uch an amalgamation. Joseph himself had set the exam- 
i 'f of intermarriage with the native Egyptians ; and the favor 

•:' tlie reigning dynasty, combined with tlie manifest thrift of 
' .0 new comers, must have made affinities very popular between 
'■ '• Hebrew and Egyptian families. These accretions, together 
'-ill the oflspring of the home-born servants and tried attend- 
~'it-, many of whom (according to patriarchal usage) would of 
' 'irsc accompany or follow tlie family of Jacob into Egypt, 

I'^irticularly as the then prevaihng famine would leave them 
'" other alternative for subsistence,) wliile others would be 
^■'iwired there in still larger numbers ; all these additions may 
■iiiy be deemed to have swelled the Israelitis^h population in 
'■'•* favored residence to an unwonted growth. We call 
^••« iition to a few intimations in the scriptural narrative itself, 
• -'t go to warrant this explanation, {a) It is expressly stated 

'•^'•<1. xii, 3S) that, when the Israelites took up their march out 

' ,' '"-!pyp^ " a mixed multitude [-n =•!>, jyrornificuous crowd, 

-*' 'S of camp followers, Gesenius] went up Mith them," evi- 

_^;'-tiy composed of their Egyptian friends and adherents, 

' ''•^•S these are distinguished from the " six hundred thousand 

' '"^'t that were meuj besides children ;" but they nevertheless 

••'■'•'■:ite liow strong and intimate an attachment had grown up 

'•\^een the Hebrews and their Egyptian neighbors, (a fact also 

306 CoUnso oil the Pentateuch. LA.pril, 

attested by the readiness of the latter in granting the request* 
of valuable presents, and attributable especially to the influence 
which the recent miracles of Moses had secured,) and they give 
rise to the suspicion that they were themsclv^ mostly the fam- 
ilies of a considerable proportion of these very six hundred 
thousand footmen, in which case we must make a correspond- 
ing deduction from the estimated number of proper Israelitish 
households. The continued presence of these miscellaneous 
companions will go far toward accounting for the frequent dis- 
orders and mutinies that distinguish the subsequent history of 
the travels through the desert, (h) A distinction of this kind 
between true-born and naturalized Hebrews is revealed by the 
discrepancy above noticed in the census of the first-born, as 
compared with the total male population. These semi-Jews, 
although admitted (as was Hobal)) to all the privileges of citi- 
zens in the newly formed migratory colony, (as befitted their 
former internal relations, and especially their present alliance.) 
and classified along with the clans into which they had become' 
affiliated, or with which they chose to fraternize as portions ui 
the general tribal coiys cTarmee^ were nevertheless of necessity 
segregated l)y the strict canvass of primogeniture, in which, as 
so much hereditary privilege of a personal, social, national, and 
religions character depended upon it, not even the sons of con- 
cubine wives, much less other more loosely formed connec- 
tions, could be allowed to enter, although for general purposes, 
whether political or ecclesiastical, the distinction was not 
observed. "We are persuaded, therefore, that the census of the 
first-born, as given in Xum. iii, -13, that is, twenty-two thousand 
two hundred and seventy-three, is the true index of the pure 
Hebrew population at the time. 

This discovery of the large proportion of merely nominal 
Israelites among the huge migrating host in fact solves funda- 
mentally and at once most of the ditficulties advanced by 
Colenso; fur it will be i>erceivcd that they are nearly all basoii 
upon the theory of ivnnlers which he applies to each question. 
Thus, when the number of strictly Israelitish households is s" 
greatly reduced, we have no occasion for the hundred thousand 
lambs for Paschal meals, and consequently are not obliged to 

♦Not loari^ for tho original term is ^iK'd, to ask, improperly rendered "bor- 
rowed " and " lent " in Eiod. i, 35, 36. 

|v(_;3J Colcn^o on the Peritakuch. 307 

provide sustenance for the innumerable flocks and herds 
linairined to have existed in the train of tlie migration. The 
,i..-tails of the march itself are also prodigiously facilitated as to 
the i>reparation and accommodation of the faniilies ; for a com- 
j.jiratively small caravan of genuine Hebrews may then be con- 
rrivod as starting under conduct of Moses and Aaron, which 
;< joined on i|s way by motley assemblages of the Ilebrfeo- 
K::v{>tian population, bringing with them the remainder of the 
j'lrsonal effects of the refugees. It was apparently this unex- 
jA'L-ted magnitude of the Exodus that induced in the king and 
iiis cabinet such vehement regret at having consented to their 

Our Hmits allow us to notice but in the briefest manner 
tliC authors remaining objections. He regards the rate of 
increase among the adult males of Dan (not quite three per 
ront.) and the total males of Levi (not quite five per cent.) 
during the thirty-eight years in the wilderness (Xum. i-iii, and 
xxvi) as so exceedingly small, especially in comparison with 
tluit among the other tribes, (for example, Manasseh, which 
iricreased over sixty per cent.,) as to render it " sufliciently plain 
Hiut the account of these numbers is of no historical value 
•••• ];atever.'' Had he cited the remaining tribes, however, they 
^v.^iild not have been so apposite fi;>r his purpose, since we 
♦liould have seen that none of the rest increased very largely, 
••\liile several actually diminished, as indeed did the sum total. 
^\'hy Manasseh alone experienced so large a growth, we, of 
^■'"rse, cannot now tell;* but we know that similar variations 
^t l-resent occur in adjoining towns and counties. 

Tiie author once more objects to the duties of the priests as 
I- iiig excessively arduous, in flict, intolerable, especially at tlie 
|'i--over in the wilderness, seeing that there were but Aaron 
^''id Ms four (eventually two) sons to offer all these sacrifices ! 
^^ hat, pray, were all the other "sons of Levi" about, that they 
^"!i]d not aid their sacerdotal bretliren ? Or is it to be imng- 
•■"-d that, upon special emergencies, Moses had no liberty to 

'- is obvious that the circumstances of the sojourn in the desert were not 
a^'^rablo to an increase cf population. The only real difficulty (tliough incorrectly 
♦**U-,l by Colenpo) is this large increment of Manasseh. The only explanation we 
'•-1-3 su^'gest, is a possible transfer of some of t!io floating population of Egyptian 
♦I'JTicuon to this tribe of the stock of Joseph. 

308 -Colenso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

appoint deputies for sncli offices? Moreover, miicli of tlio 
Levitical code was intended to be fully executed only after tlie 
arrival in Canaan, and parts of it were even not instituted till 
a comparutivfly late period of the sojourn in the desert.^ As 
to the passover in question, if our view of the composition of 
the Israelitish host is correct, very many lamilies may not liave 
observed that festival at all ; indeed, we have po^tive evidence 
that great neglect of these ceremonial ordinances, even tlic 
most essential, prevailed during the migration through tlic 
wilderness. (Josh, v, T ; Amos v, 25.) ' 

Finally, the author calculates that the six months between 
Aaron's death (Num. xxiii, 3S) and the farewell of Moses (Dent. 
i, 3) would have been fully occupied ^-ith the mourning fur 
Aaron, the battle with Arad, the incidents of the fiery serpent^, 
the nine encampments adjoining, the conquest of Sihon, th.- 
capture of Jaazer, and the reduction of Bashan, (Kum. xx, xxi :) 
leaving no space for the march to the plains of Moab, the nar- 
rative "of Balaam, the idolatry with the Moabi'tish females, and 
the consequent pestilence, the second census, and the war with 
Midian, (Xum. xxii-xxvi,) all which took place before tlie de- 
mise of Moses. Had he set his wits as actively to work {■> 
ascertain how all this might have transpired, as he has to mal-' 
out that it coidd not have taken place at all, he might hav>' 
bethought him that many of these transactions, especially tho 
campaitnis, were probably going on at the same time in detacli- 
ments of troops from the main body stationary at Shittini. 
where :Moses was personally engaged in the concluding seen.- 
of his career. 

Bishop Colenso feels greatly shocked Qxige 210) by llic ml.v.^ 
man manner in which die Israelites are said to have treatni 
their :Midianite captives, (Xum. xxxi ;) and he is, if pos^il-V- 
still more scandalized (page 50) at the countenance given I'; 
the Mosaic statutes to the system of slavery, (Exod. xxi, -i, -"• 
21.) As to the iirst of these points, we agree with him that 
war is a dreadful thing under any circumstances, and wc m 
this country are at present well able to appreciate its h<>rr.'rr. 
But slaughter has in all ages been its inevitable accompani- 
ment^, and its rigors liavc always fallen not only upon the s"-- 
diers 'themselves, b\it also upon their homes and fomihes thut 
have therebv been desolated. Yet we are not aware that tho 

1S03.] Colenso on the Pentateuch. 309 

ntnnlicrs stated in any liistorieal work to have been killed in 
l.;ittIo, nor even the atrocities related to have been committed 
uj'uri prisoners, has ever been made a serious ground of im- 
jH-ncliing the "historical character" of the nan-ative. Such 
»*'cnes of blood, alas ! have been too common on our earth to 
appear improbable occurrences. The massacre of these !Mid- 
jaiiitcs, however, was not only jDart of Jehovah's general 
diarge to Israel utterly to slay and extirpate th(? idolatrous 
aborigines, but it was a special act of retribution for their 
intrigues in the matter of Baal-peor, and the Midianitish women 
wt-re justly made to bear the heaviest part of the penalty for 
ihtir prominent and shameless agency in that inlamous trans- 
tr-tion. "\7ar is stern, but the judgments of the Almighty are 
even more severe upon the godless ! The humanitarian notions 
of ])r. Colenso may lead him to impeach this act of sovereign 
ji^tice, even as it induces him to reject the doctrine of the pcr- 
fiiiiou of the wicked, however plainly inculcated in holy writ ; 
I'Ut his unbelief cannot make void the righteousness of God. 
A denial of the punishment of the wicked, whether in this world 
or the next, will not lessen its certainty in the least, any more 
tlian to shut our eyes against the awful secTies of the cartli- 
'{uake, the conflagration, the flood, or the pestilence, will stay 
t;iiir ravages. The bishop lias here entered into a controversy, 
J^'-t with man, but with his own Almighty Master, whose ways 
i:e thus virtually impugns. 

As to the critic's second moral objection, the bearing of the 
Mosaic law upon human slavery, he is altogether mistaken in 
-:-^ position. The design and the actual eflect of those enact- 
•'•'•Hts was, not to confirm, nmch less institute, but to amelio- 
'■■'te, and eventually abolish the usage. For proof of this, if 
'"••"V be needed, we refer our readers to the able discussion of 
'• <• whole subject of Hebrew slavery, both in its biblical and 
I'abhinical aspects, by the learned Jew, Dr. M. Miekincr, 
•"Die Yerhaltnisse der Sklaven bei den alten Ilebraern," 
J'"!>cnhagen, 1S59,) which has been translated in the (Gettys- 
■■•'■g) Evangdical licvleiu for January, 1SG2. "We may add, 
;'''t we of America could wish that Bishop Colenso's prelat- 
'^^\ brethren might so far, at least, share in his " revulsion of 
^"•■'■'ig" against human chattelship as to cease their aiding 
"''J. *^^->etting, by every means that they dare to employ, the 

l-OLKTu Sjcuies, Vol. XY.— 20 

310 ' Coleiiso on the Pentateuch. [April, 

cause of a rebellious confederacy whose avowed comer-stone is 
the "divine right" of slavery!* 

His incidental cavils at the universality of the flood, (]->aire 
5,) and the account of tlie arrest of the sun and moon by 
Joshua, (j^age S,) we pass by as having already been amply dis- 
cussed in treatises expressly prepared on these subjects by com- 
petent writers innumerable. 

We have thus followed "his lordship" through the dricrt 
details of his portentous "critical examination," and found 

* We quote part of the language of the Briti'ih Quarterly Eevieio on this point: 

"The small space wo have loft must be assigned to a notice of the difficuhy \\hl':h 
arose between Dr. Colenso and his native Zulu, and by which the heatlien conver; 
appears to have done so much toward converting his instructor. Here it is: 

" ' If the master [of a Hebrew servant] have given hira a wife, and she have boni;" 
him sons or dau-hters. the wife and lior children *hall be her master's, and be sh^^ 
go out free by himself.' (Exod. x.\i, 4.) 

" The wife and children in such a case being placed under the protection of sue.': 
words as these: , i.- i, i 

'"If a man smite his servant, or his maid, with a rod, and he die under his hanu, 
he shall be surciv puni.shed. Notwithstanding, if he continue a day or two, Le 
shall not be punished: for he is his money.' (Exod. xxi, 20, 21.) 

" ' I <h'dl never for 'ct the revulsion of foolini:; with which a very intelligent Chris- 
tian native with whose help I was translating these words into the Zulu t'-rg,..,. 
fir<;t heard 'them as words said to be uttered by the same great and gracious bci-:.- 
whom I was teaching him to trust in and adore. His whole soul revolted a-a^n^- 
the n^^tio,,, that tlie euat and blessed God, the morcitul lather ot all mank-.n^l. 
would -^peak of a servant or maid as mere money, and allow a horrible crime V'^i. • 
unpuniMied, bL-causc tiie victim of the brutal usa-e had survived a few hours. ^-; 
own heart and cou'^rlonce at the time fully sympathized with his.' 

"The bishop, however, met the perplexity of the inquirer for the present by j.;.:- 

pcstinr' that this thought about the monev-value of tlie bondsman came to tiie c::; i 
of Mo-T-s at the time, and that, supposing it to have been divinely given to him. ;:- 
recorded it. But surelv sometliing better than this might have been said upon i^? 
case We English Ciiristians in the middle of the nineteenth century judge it si"; 
ful for anv man to hold another in bondage. [And yet many of them am lend « J 
their moral inthience toward crushing a nation that is struggling to shake olV t-.' 
evil inherited from Ku-land!] But is it sufficiently considered how long it ■ '•' 
taken to bring men into this wav of tliinking? Nearly tifteen centuries intorve;.' • 
between the'E.fodus and the Advent. But in the course of that world-educaty a 

a comii.uuin , 111 i-'- V.S-.V-. — ^ 1 — , .- - III i-TH •* 

does not contain a pass;ige teaching in any direct form that society should kti ^ 
nothing of bondsmen. It lays down great principles, which were to issue in ^ 
ovtmr-rion of such Service, and in the extinction of many things like it. ^;''^,:' ■ 

extinction of such service, and in the extinction ot many things 

extinction was left to f.-Uow from the slow action of those principles, bt. i •■ ^ 
knew that every bond-man iu tlie Roman empire was simply so much m"j • ■. 
accordin<"r to tho opinion, feMding, and law of ihc times; and that if a s<?rv:u.. ■ • 
this orde'r should be injured even to death, there was no law to the ^^r• -_ 
door Still that the preacliers of the L'.ospcl might not be presented to ttie i-- 
of that generation as the preachers of a servile war, and the purpose t'^;^''^;^ ;;, , 
cial mis'sion be frustrated, slavery, with all its wrongs and barbantitp, i- 
vilhout any direct proscription."— P. ISG. 

1SC3.] Funeral Oration ujpon Stephen Ciircellceus. 311 

.that it evinces everywhere the fault-finding pedagogue, rather 
llian tlie devout investigator.* Kiebuhr, who first applied the 
incredulous philosophy to the confessed " legends of Livy," 
doubtless had no idea that his disciples of the " mythical " school 
would carry it out into the petty process of dissecting statistics. 
There is no historian, however honest, that is secure from con- 
viction, if put to the rack after this ex-parte fashion. Bishop 
Colenso has succeeded in striking from beneath his own feet 
ihe earliest historical basis of revealed religion, and appears to 
rejoice in having thrown ofi:' the " superstitious " faith in which 
!je was reared to his present eminence. Yet he ofifers us no 
Fubstitute for the precious records thus degraded below the 
&utl>ority of profane history. He seems unable to " define his 
own position." We wonder not at this, for it is a most anom- 
alous and unsteady one. "We advise all who may feel bewil- 
dered by the perusal of tliese audacious sophisms, so lately con- 
ceived by the author himself, and so eagerly promulged, to wait 
until they shall see the end of his belief; and to his ecclesias- 
tical superiors we recommend, in their future selection- of bish- 
ops, to heed the apostle's caution, 1 Tim. iii, 6. 



[r.UtX SECOND.] 


(-'I'KCELL^US, as I have said, took refuge in this our Eelgium, 
^•? an asylum of truth, an altar of freedom, and an abode of 
iH.Mce; the only refuge for oppressed consciences. Here he 
'>«-'l'ed to live and die. But before we depart with him fi'om 

It ought to bo borne iu miml tbat the narrative of tho Exodus purports to be 
•^ ff'cord of no ordinary scone; but is constantly spoken of in Scripture as a series 

'"• events bordering on the miraculous in all thcif particular.-, having been achieved 
T Uio "high and mighty hand" of Jehovah. The candid reader is accordingly 

{•''•p.-irod to find many things in the liistory not only extraordinary, but unaccount- 

*^'- ^^ tho grounds of human calculation. 

313 Funeral Oration tipon Stephen Curcellmiis. [April, 

France, let us not iu this jAuqq omit mention of his ultV, 
Joanna tie Beanlien le Blanc, whom a certain person, now a:i 
enemy of Cm-celUTens, calls " a noble and remarkable woman ;" 
■who, when from disease she had been for almost a year neiu- 
death's portal, drew up in the city of Yitriacum a tablet or testa- 
mentary letter, which she sent to her brothers, Stephen anil 
Louis de Beaulieu le Blanc, the former pastor of Sylvanectuni. 
the latter o^ Plesis, and to James and Peter de Beaulieu le 
Blanc, the former of whom was the secretary of Charles, Kii;:: 
of England, the latter was an eminent advocate in the Parlia- 
ment at Paris. To all of these, whose love toward her husl)anil 
ehe deemed too little, she sent this token of her will, in wliich 
she bequeathed not estates, nor furnitures, nor funds, but that 
which she held far more precious than gold or silver, love, cori- 
cord^ and^;tvrrv, to be fraternally cherished toward her husbau'l. 
and never to be interrupted by differences of opinion in regard 
to religious matters. I will here passingly insert a few extract.- 
from the terms of her will, not only because of the weightinc.-s 
of the sentiments and of their worthiness of perpetuation, but 
also because of the prudence and piety of that noble matron : 

The Ttsfamcnt ir/dch I leave to 7ny honored and loved brothers o:n>l 
to my mo.-it excellent shtcr : 

Srn, AM) MOST HoxoiiKD BuoTHEK, — I send this my letter to yon 
in ortlor to make known wliat position our aflViirs have assunidl. 
My alii ict ion is not slight on account of my lingering disease nu'l 
prostration of strength. Our little ones, thanks to God, are still 
very well. ]\ty only trouble is because my husband, Curcelhens, i> 
often plunirofl into tlie deepest grief as he sees me rapidly approacl!- 
ing the end of life, lie clings to nic with as gseat love as from tl.' 
beginninij, and fur ten lo'.ig years has shown me as much hnnor 
and kindness as any wife could ask or desire from her husbaii'l. 
Ke kindly and consolingly soothes all my griefs. I believe that in 
this thing G<jd takes cares of his o^vn. J am often overwhclnn'i 
with sorrow w lu^n I <-onteniplate the great distance which sei):nat- ~ 
me from you ; but lleavi-n has not left me desolate, wlio raises and 
comforts me t!iroii'_di tiie husband whom lie has given mc. 1 
entreat and be.-eeeh you all, in the name of God, that in Avhatevt r 
degree we have lived together iu liarniony and peace, to the ^"wy^'^ 
extent you may be wiilini; to esteem my husl)and ; this is the sum <■: 
his pi-ayers, aii<l he loves nio and rcp;ards you as his own lu-olher-. 
But I tear lest the dithculty which lias arisen bctAvcen him and h;-' 
colleagues may produce some estrangen\ent in your feelinu's «-■» 
account of the suspicions which some have conceived toward hinii 

1SG3.3 Funeral Oration ujpon Skjphen Curcellmis. 313 

:h if lie cherished any concealed sentiments in his bosom. I earn- 
estly attest to you that my liushand cherishes no opinions except 
those which any pious and approved Christian might fully enter- 
tain.- No doctrine ever was adopted or held by him except that 
alone which Christ gave to his disciples as sutheicut for enabling 
ihoiu to convince and instruct mankind unto salvation. I therefore 
},r;iy and entreat you, by the honor of God and the love I have 
» \er shown toward you, that you regard Carcelheus not as a stran- 
trvr or a foreigner, but as a most loved brother and an heii- of the 
raiiie promise of eternal life. We by no means ouglit to adopt an 
evil opinion of him because on some points of little importance he 
ditlers in opinion from us. " Ye shall know them by their fruits," 
Hays the Saviour ; '• a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, nor .1 
corrupt tree bring fortli good fruit." According to the measure of 
tlic reason and knowledge which God has been pleased to bestow 
uj)on me, I have recognized in my husband no conduct which was 
not according to holiness. Recently a few individuals have arisen 
.against him, and persuaded themselves that he is destitute of all 
reason; but they ought to attribute this to his modesty, because 
he imagines that the ears of many are shut to his reasonings. But 
I earnestly entreat you and my other brothers to heed the admo- 
nition of the apostle, who teaches us not to judge or decide prema- 
turely; but that, proving all things, we should retain that whicli 
is good. that by you all, as well as by me, the disposition of 
my husband might be clearly understood. "Well do 1 know that 
you would eagerly seek his acquaintance and friendly conversation. 
As far as I am able, 1 commend him, together with my children, 
to you. I ask you that you may beseech in my name, my most 
honored friends and relations^ that the love of which they have 
esteemed me worthy they ma,y transfer and bestow upon my hus- 
hand and my children ; and 1 would also have you declare that it 
is my constant prayer, that as I have cultivated peace and friend- 
sliip while God has granted me the possession of this life, so even 
Jifier my death these may live and flourish among them. 

To yuu all I bid a fiiuil adieu: to my niost excellent sisters, your 
^^ ives, to your cliildren ; in short, to all my dearly beloved friends. 
I ask you, my brother, to kindly send a co])y of this wn-iting to all 
>ay brothers, and preserve this original, written by my own hand 
for yourself. Vox I desire that you and they also may order the 
t'xecution of this small will. You' can do this readily upon the first 
opportunity; for you will perceive that this is drawn up in the 
'■^yle in which wills usually are. I fear you will not receive tliis 
letter before my departure Vrom earth. Not with an miinterrupted 
l"-n was it dictated by me ; but opportunities and intervals were 
f-aatched from the debility of my brain occasioned by the paroxysms 
*^| fever. You will, therefore, hold it in greater esteem. You will 
kindly pardon me if this is rude and unpolished; for as it is the 
^'ork of my own impulse, so is it also my own cumitusition. If I 
•''id desired to use the assistance of Curcelkeus it would have been 
l-resented to you in a more polished style. But that I may put 

314 Funeral Oration upon- Stephen Curcellcms. [April, 

a conclusion to this document, I am and shall be till the end of 
life yours, and to you all a most perfectly devoted and faithful 
sister. Done in Ilelmauru, February 21, 1G25. 

JoAXNA Le Blanc. 

^Ve have followed in our oration CurcGllrGus's departure from 
France into Belginni, and it is now worth our while to know 
in what man-ner he conducted himself in these lands, how he 
supported himself, with what talents he was endowed, what 
books he wrote, what friendships he cultivated, how powerful 
was liis influence among his superiors in dignity and authority, 
and, in short, in what way he was led from this sorroAvful life 
unto death, and from death to the heavenly ascension. A cer- 
tain person^ became his enemy because upon his arrival in these 
lands '• he pvodrated himself at the feet of Eplscopius.''^ Xcxt, 
he criticised him at great length because he had subscribed to 
the Canons of Dort ; and, finally, he reproached him for w^ork- 
ing for printers in the correction of books for the press, and 
by this mechanical labor supporting himself and family. In 
ignorance, O ^Marcsius, do you reprehend the doings of your 
foe, or rather your friend, (for it was by your will and not by 
his that variance occurred,) for what you say is entirely untrue ; 
and the real truth is no disgrace but an honor to your friend. 
I deny that he acted as a suppliant. Upon his entrance into 
this audience-room, Episcopius, out of honor, arose and.wishcJ 
to hand over the professor's chair to him, that he might preside 
over the debate then to be held. Proof this is of the honor in 
whicli he was held by the honored Episcopius, and how unnec- 
essary it was to " prostrate himself" as a suppliant before this 
most accomplished man. But our friend served at the print- 
ing-press and was reduced to narrow circumstances ! lie diu 
this, not induced by any hope of gain, but according to a desire 
of some of his most noted friends ;. and by the reqnest of cer- 
tain of these, especially of the illustrious Hugo Grotius, whor^c 
notes upon an edition of the Gospels he cleared of mistake-;. 
He also translated some mathematical works into other lan- 
guages, which I do not believe his enemy could have done 
better; and, according to the desire of his friend.s, wished t«> 
do this if he were able. Some geographical delineations which 
* Maresiufi. See p. 32G. 

1SC3J Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellwus, 315 

CI. Caspar Barlceus had prepared in Lis great Bltevian ^vork, 
he. adorned and completed. But I confess, (for \\hy should I 
deny that which is true and right,) I confess that this reverend 
jiKin was at first coldly received by some on account of that 
iirst signing of the canons. I confess that he was involved in 
embarrassments. But he well foresaw these difiicult positions ; 
lie willingly cast himself into them, he encountered them with 
a brave spirit, he nobly gave himself to be tested by these hard- 
ships, and he forced all to acknowledge that nothing was done 
by him falsely or hypocriticallv, and proved himself to be fully 
prepared to encouiiter every difficulty, that he might preserve 
an undisturbed and inviolate peace of conscience. "Was it not 
tlien imprudent, shall I not say senseless, in this critic to repre- 
liend what was worthy of praise, and to depress as an enemy 
the man whom he should extol as a friend ? Is not he a firm 
believer in God who would permit his worldly circumstances to 
become reduced to the utmost that he might bring his con- 
Ecience, fettered by the narrow limits and restrictions of Dort, 
into the just liberty of the sons of God? But M'ho di'ovc him 
into these difliculties but the slaves of the despotism of Dort ? 
In which if any sin is committed it is not his who bore the 
snfiering, but his who inflicted. lie is deservedly adjudged to 
have inflicted the sufieriug who approves its infliction, who is 
prepared to inflict, and who acknowledges for brethren the 
authors of the infliction. 

In illustration I adduce an incident at the time occurring. 
^^ hen the debate which I have mentioned above was held before 
Episcopius as theological professor, in the presence of Cm'cel- 
'icus, a disquisition was read concerning the sense and faltill- 
nient of our Lord's promise found in the nineteenth chapter of 
Matthew, that whoever has left home, and Iroihers, and sifters, 
(tc, on account of my name, shall receive a hundredfold and 
thall obtain the heirship of eternal life. Episcopius answered 
that this promise was frequently unfulfilled in this life ; but its 
^uHillment might be confidently expected in tlic life to come. 
■Nevertheless, God, in the course of our present life, docs none 
t'le less confer this reward upcai some with a most eminent 
hbendity, so that they can acquiesce in their own lot; he also 
.-uiut'tinics demonstrates the truthfulness of his promise by the 
full performance itself, as if for the purpose of a decisive example 

316 Funeral Oration upon Stephen CurcelloBus. LVpril, 

f®r the confirmation of others, lest tliej should be phmgcd into 
utter disconragenient. At the same time, in an exulting tcmi)er, 
he said, " Take, for instance, this oiir Cm-cellieus and nn•^elr■, 
in whom you may recognize the express signs of the fullilled 
promise. I, as an exile from Holland, voluntarily took refu^^o 
in France ; he, as an exile fr<:im France, took refuge in Holland. 
Homes, brothers, and sisters, we abandoned ; but our God ha? 
not deserted us, but abundantly cares for us, for our fortune^, 
and our friends whom we hold dearer than earthly possessions.'' 


Not a very long time did our deceased friend remain in these 
embarrassments, since he has ever been honored by our adher- 
ence ; and after Episcopius departed from this earthly habita- 
tion to the better world, by the unanimous vote of our com- 
munity Curcellanis was raised into the position of the deceased ; 
together with those noted men, Charles Kiellius, who now lives 
with God among the glorified, and Bartholomew Prrevostins. 
who is now a sm-vivor and here present, and has entered his 
seventy-first year, ha\'ing long since obtained an honoralJe 
withdrawal from laboi-s. In addition to these at length was 
Albert Hutten, formerly Professor of Sacred Literature at 
Sedan, who thence departed to take charge of his native 
Church at Xevinagus. After he had been raised to this posi- 
tion he alone, and with his venerable colleagues, clung to bis 
work witli diligence and the greatest assiduity, so that neither 
indeed at home nor abroad, in his auditory nor out of it, did 
he wish us to be destitute of his counsel or his aid. For I 
remember that when I came into this state for the sake of my 
studies that he, reclining in his bed, not without great danger, 
carried on our uninterrupted discussions at his own house. V>ni 
lie carried the studious youths, as was agreed upon among u?, 
in no one separate part of learning ; but for a long time, like an 
Atlas, he carried us through all the languages which conduced 
to an acquirement of the sciences, through all the sciences which 
prepare the mind for theolugy, and finally he sustained upon 
his own shoulders tlie very arduous task of theology. He aloTie 
presided at the declamations which were held each week; he 
alone taught Greek literature as far as was allowable. H** 
taught us the discipline of manners, the knowledge of natural 

1SG3.] Funeral Oration xipon Stephen CureellcEUS. 317 

philosophy, the science of things human and divine. He pro- 
moted us at first to the study of matliematics, and prepared for us 
ft certain clear method of learning astronomy, and a little while 
after embraced it, so far as conduced to theological purposes, in 
a small compendium. And finally he seated himself like a 
K-ader and a prince, or like a most noted artisan, in building and 
ndorniug this citadel of theology as his own appropriate work. 
Ife delivered many lectures, dictated many treatises, and trained 
tlic students as if in a palestra or laboratory furnished ydi\\ all 
tlie proper apparatus, not only by discussion, but also by insti- 
tuting examinations. But why pursue the details? He was 
for some time like a sole dictator among us. At first he dic- 
tated to his scholars a small commentary upon the Catholic 
K['istle of Jude, which, nevertheless, he did not complete. He 
taught us theology by leading topics, and this he ever applied 
to the practice of morals, of which he completed nearly the 
whole treatment. Besides, he dispensed a certain new course 
of discussions after almost the same train of topics as he had 
f.'llowed in his lectures, except that many things which were 
»:nitted in his lectures he here accumulated as a mass, and all 
«f them were written with such a strength of argument and 
I'f^'auty of order, and with such a perspicuity of style, that I 
he.-itate not to say that no one could have composed anything 
of tliis kind more accurately or elegantly ; and so, although 
the«e things could not be brouc-ht to a finish on account of his 
"iscase and. death, nevertheless they are most worthy of the 
t-uliest publication possible. 


He published not a few works which he has left as a clear 
^'>'imony of his learning, humanity, and moderation. During 
Jnc controversy on predestination, when a new discussion arose 
'■<'tn-Gen Moses Amyraldus and Peter Molinieus, he, like a 
"lihemon, inteq^osed as an arbiter by the publication of a 
^!»-iicli work which he titled, ^'- Advis (Tun personage duin- 
^'t-csse^^^ etc. In this small M'ork he declares what he approves 
^'*'' disapproves on either side. He decided that Amyraldus 
»l"'ko rightly but thouglit wrongly when he declared that 
^*'tliough God wished all to be saved, and Christ sulYered death 
'"'■ JiH, without exception, yet that the number of men abso- 

318 Fitneral Oration iijpon Stephen CxirceU.ceus. [April, 

Intelj elected or absolutely rejected -^-as limited by God. Put 
that Molinanis, neitlicr in word nor sense, agreed with Scrijv 
ture, since he denied what Scripture affirms, that God wished 
all mankind to be saved, and declares that reprobates are ii«,t 
called to a participation of salvation; whom nevertheless Gud, 
by his ministers, invited to the marriage feast. (!Matt. xxii.) 

He .published another book against the professor of theolo jy 
at Saumur, in which he defends the opinions held by Arminius 
and liimself concerning the right of God over his creatiu-es; 
opposing especially the error of those who believe that God is 
able to torment by hellish and eternal woes the innocent little 
Bouls of helpless infants; and some, with Calvin, even conter..! 
that he really torments the hifants of the Gentiles, although 
they deny that they are innocent, and shamefully take ren\::e 
under the imputation of original sin. Besides, he published in 
the next year the Xew Testament, corrected from the ni'.'it 
ancient manuscripts, and illustrated by a very great variety vi 
readings, and most accurately printed in a most beautiful t\"]x\ 
At the latest moments of his life he published a learned worl: 
upon TIic Eating of Bloody in which, with many other reasci:.:^ 
being adduced, he strove to prove that both hereafter and nov. 
according to the command of God delivered to Xoah, and ti.'- 
prescription "of the apostles, which they sent abroad and ]•;•.'- 
mulgated to all the Churches of the Gentiles, that all Christians 
should abstain fi'om the eating of blood. 

A few years afterward he undertook the defense of Pavid 
Blondell against the criminations of Maresius, shamefully hea}'t-'I 
upon a deceased friend ; which defense he prefixed as a preface 
to a dissertation of D. Blondell, in which preface he dem-.::- 
Etrates that the vulgar history of a Popess Joan ought to !• 
rejected as fldjulous. Finally, the defense of this defense is :•■ 
press, and about to sec the light for which it aspires, a b'> •^' 
most complete in every kind of learning, wherein he give- l-> 
opinion explained and confirmed : Concerning the words P<.'-^ '• 
and Trinity, etc. Concerning Original Sin. Concerning (■•■- 
Necessitr/ of a Kno^olcdge of Christ. Concerning the Jiift<v---''^' 
tion of Man Icfore God, and other sublime subjects of Clirir-ii-^^' 
faith. In this treatise may be seen the injustice of tlie t'-''i- 
tempt expressed by the man who, once his friend wow '■•" 
enemy, even attempted to make it a matter of reproach th^- 

1SC3.] Funeral Oration 'Lipmi SUphen Curcellccus. 319 

Curcelliens bad from age become blind both in body and in 
iniiul. Such a man would have reproached the patriarch Isaac 
f..r the failure of his eyes, and would have ridiculed the bald- 
!K-^s of the prophet Eli?ha -u-ith the boys of Bethel. But let 
liiin l>eware lest the destroyers be upon him, as happened to the 
Ik.vs insulting the holy old man. Sophocles, the celebrated 
jK'Ct among the Greeks, when his sons sought to exclude him 
from the family property because on account of his old age he 
hceined to have lost his intellect, having produced and read 
Ills recently composed tragedy of Electra, so overcame and con- 
famded his sous that they could not utter a single word against 
liiin. So this book, composed in Curcellteus's last moment^, 
aVnmdantly proves his power of mind. Even if he were from 
(>M age blind, for what reason should he be so earnestly despised 
and insulted. I am no more ashamed of my blind master than 
was Jerome, who has left it recorded in his Chronicles that his 
teacher, Didyraus Alexaudrinus, was blind from the fifth year 
of his bu-th. 

I do not forget that a certain doctor of the Reformed, espe- 
'•ially celebrated among our adversaries, when he was asked by 
Curcelteus whether he thought so unfriendly a man, belching 
f'Tth so atrociously so many harsh and malignant rcbulvcs, ought 
t") be answered, said, ''Let the coai-se beast alone." I know 
that this was the judgment of other noted men ; nor is it won- 
•k-rful, since no other kind of vindication is more worthy a 
LTuve and Christian man, nor can the darts of calumny be in 
any other way better blunted or broken, than by slighting their 
^x'iuacity by a firm, deep silence. For what end will there be 
* • quarrels if we wrangle with wranglers, and if" we respond 
<-ti<llessly to barkers ? Yet because men are elate over others, 
'!'"ni othei*s silence proclaim their victory and are appeased by 
'he empty pretense of a triumph, our sage judged it would be 
f'T his interest and for his fame after death, and for the advance- 
"H-nt of divine truth, that such atrocious charges should not 
^•dl unpunished and without castigation from the mouths of 
'lien. And just as nature in many things exerts her utmost 
Krongth for a final attempt when she finds herself lailing, and 
'•^ the sun when it is nearest its setting pours forth more rays 
^''iiti usual upon the earth and casts into om* eyes more light 
^•i-'in we need, so this venerable man as he labored in his last 

320 Funeral Oration upon Stcjphen Curcellaius. [April, 

moments, and by his labor added strengtli to his somewhat 1-iil- 
inc. system, and collected all the energies and industry oi ht. 
mfnd and so conquered himself; and as he approached tl... 
licrht' above, so did he emit from himself the more glormn- 
rays I here omit many learned prefaces which he pretixcd t . 
the published writings of other learned men, among winch. 
very eminent in value, is that prefatory character of Episcopu;- 
^diich will be found inserted as an Introduction to his llico- 
lo-ical Institutes. I omit also his letters of many and different 
kinds of argument which have not yet been published. Amon;: 
these the one written to the illustrious Hugo Grotius concern- 
iDo: Antichi-ist; the one to Sorberius concerning the abuses or 
erLs of the Eomish Church; and that to Adi-ianPa^tsius, mo.l 
BkiUed in theology among jurists, concerning Popish idolatry 
as being enormous, and therefore worthy of condemnation, an; 
the most excellent. 


It may be desirable to note the object this illustrious man 
had in view, in all his words, writings, and deeds. For nv^ 
cannot believe that so many and great undertakings could^ bv 
made by so wise a man, unless he had some well-defined oltjcet 
in view. This will be clearly seen from the very first by thofc 
candidly examining his works. He first of all directed n- 
mind to a search after divine truth ; for he thought that th!^ 
treasure, descending from heaven, should be preferred to a-. 
' other acquirements. Next, he had all the thoughts ot Jn- 
mind directed to integrity ; because he believed that not evy- 
truth could be of benefit to us, unless it brought some strikingi} 
advantageous aid to our piety. Finally, this especially he wislu-. 
and for this peculiarly he labored, to unite the Christian boa^. 
torn into many and terrible schisms ; to compose and concilK't- 
the separate, distracted feelings of various minds ; and to tcacn 
that' not all the doctrines which were alleged as a pretext l-'!- 
cau^in'^ or cherishing a schism were vital for salvation, ami :'• 
the same time to show that those things which had not tl:|^ 
weiMit of neccssitv by no means sufficed for diN-iding the Chui< • 
of Christ To this all things were to be referred which ij-- 
meditated, uttered, or performed; for this he refused to su - 

\>^C,?y.] Funeral Oration iij)on Stej)?ien Cicrcellwus. 321 

K-rlbe to tlie famous canons of the synod, because we, whose 
(.nitiions ought not to be, were condemned; for this he aban- 
il..!ie(l his loved country, France, and endured many hardships 
fur the sake of mutual toleration ; and for this he determined 
!o contest, as if for some divine palladium. He conceded to 
.•tli'jrs as much as he thought should be equally granted to 
him; demanded that nothing should be conceded to liimself 
tVuiu others, except what justice aud right reason and the 
♦■acred writmgs require should be admittt^d. "What is more 
holy than this proposition, what more salutary, what more 
ticcofsary for' the times ? For many contend concerning the 
truth, and so contend, that they never obtain truth but lose 
charity. Hence the many disputes in Christendom on slight 
causes. But what is more disgraceful to us as members of Christ, 
wluit more ignominious to Christ as our Head .and Leader, than 
that liis .seamless coat, and his body, which ought to be united 
hy the closest ties of love, should be torn into a thousand 
fragments? This indeed is the distinction of Bemonstrantism ; 
(his our eroicn of glory ^ hecause ice neither caused this schism, 
nor consented to any' other, nor cherished nor approved any; 
hut we invite and exhort all who love Christ and adhere to 
hi-5 Gospel alone to enter this communion of peace. For 
v.lio is so blind or so unwise that he does not desire this 
laethod of inaugurating peace should be embraced in every 
l"-isible way ? AVho does not think that this school. of toler- 
ance is to be studiously attended as a training-place of charity, 
ajid so of all the virtues ? For where there is Christian charity 
'here is a bond of all the virtues. "Who would not regard such 
:< Juan, who subordinated all other things to this -divine cause 
and discipline, and for this wa£ pre-eminent, worthy after death 
to be gratefully esteemed and commemorated % 


I^ut whereas this reverend man descended from such an an- 
•"•-try at Geneva, was educated at the Gcnevese Stoa, and was 
^;inght by such masters that he would seem by his very nativity 
I"' be trained and imbued by no de>ire of mutual toleration, 
init for applying force and persecution to dissenters, this may 
''•^ a matter of inquiry with us, how he, so enslaved, could 
f-i'ire to a hope of liberty, and be animated by so miexpected 


322 Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellceus. [April, 

a preference for toleration and peace? In the first place, it 
must be acknowledged, and never in any way dissembled, tluii 
God, tbe Father of lights, does not deign to bestow the san\c gii'is 
and endowments npou all, but grants a greater measure to some, 
a less to others. For although to every one he gives such an 
amount as suffices in proportion to the strength, yet he bcstuvo 
talents with a great inequality of shares. But that mildness .jf 
character v.diich oftentimes suggests moderate counsels, althouirh 
it might sometimes seem innate, should be regarded as a gift 
from God. x\s those who for a long time have been in w:ir 
and among warriors, stained with the blood of the enemy, mo^t 
earnestly desire peace, because they are especially averse to 
slaughter and blood, so some, while they are associated with 
persecutors, and contemplate the pyres erected to the destructivai 
of erring souls, are moved with pity, and with a sense of our 
common frailty, and shrink from the harsh fierceness of thorc 
persecutors. To this may be also added great power of domes- 
tic influences and instruction, especially if there happen to oiio 
not an unsuitable but an approved and prudent instructor. 
endowed with that authority that we feel the rightfulness tt 
obedience to his admonitions. All these great advantages, I'V 
the divine benignity, fell to the lot of our CurcelliEUs. 

It is now proper to make mention of other circumstanct. -. 
Bho^^'ing the genius of the man which the grace of Gel 
bestowed upon him, and which were of influence in fonniiip; 
within him a mild spirit. 

I have nut yet mentioned what ought not to be omitted '.:'• 
this place ; that soon after hi^ birth he lost his father, and 
was immediately delivered over for training and education to 
his nearest kinsman, Charles Perrottus, pastor of the Churrh 
at Geneva, and then the theological pi-r.fessor. We owe muoi 
to this Perrott\is for the zeal which he manifested in tiio 
cause of relii^ious liberty. For after having scattered the dcn- 
est shades of popish superstition, when the ardent love of per>e- 
cution animated all, he attempted to restrain their ardor, arr. 
existed in his day as indeed a counselor of mutual tolcratu-a. 
It was from his teaching that the learned and scholarly L-tcnlK- 
gafdus emerged as a herald of peace ; for when he was about to 

iff'3.] Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellceus. 323 

rcttini from Geneva into Holland, Perrottns earnestly counseled 
i.;:u, immediately upon his entrance into the sacred ministry, 
\ i !ih.-itain from all bitterness of counsels eitlier in defending or 
r>r<':uliug religion ; not to condemn others for a slight dilTer- 
t iice of opinion, but using all lenity, to exert all his powers for 
{!io unity of Christendom, which it was a great cause for sorrow 
flioiild be so sadly rent. He also added that some in the 
Jirlbrmed Chm-ch had gone fiu'ther than was justifiable, who 
prc?ented and m*ged their opinions with too great zeal; in the 
tuunieration of which he did not hesitate to mention some of 
Lis own colleagues who then were filling the first positions at 
(leneva. And lest his counsel should be forgotten by Utenbo- 
}.',>rda3, in the latters album he wi-ote his name, and under it 
ihat divine saying of Christ, " lilessed are the peacemakers, for 
they shall be called the children of God." To Thomas Tilius, 
'.vho, at first abbot of St. Bernard, abandoned the Papacy, and 
was installed pastor of the Church at Delphi, he addressed sim- 
ilar language : " Many of the lleformed Church imitate the 
txample of Uzzah, by rashly ])]acing their hand, in a manner 
threatening ruin, upon the ark of God." -Would that his testi- 
s.'iony, " Concerning the Avoidance of Extreme Opinions in 
-Matters of Peligion," which no doubt would be very effective 
:;i tlie preservation of peace, was now in existence ! Mention 
\^a5 made of it in some catalogues of the Synod of Orleans, 
in the following language : " ' Concerning the Avoidance of 
h.xtreme Opinions in Matters of Eeligion ;' a book of Charles 
iVrrottus, not yet, to my knowledge, published." It never 
'>':is published, but, according to report, was suppressed by the 
''<!ievans on account of its opposition to their doctrines con- 
*'fmnatory of moderation. 

A great part of the happiness of Curcellseus certainly it was, 
*":it in earliest boyhood he was inducted into the family and 
1 -itronage of this learned and pious man. When Curcelk"eu3 
^^■JiL-rated Calvin, and preferred Beza to all others, Perrottus, 
^'•» the other hand, in the presence of not a few learned men, 
ui ri very powerful oration, inveighed against the dogmas 
^ 5 tliose doctors, especially when they condemned or attempted 
*' "Impress dissenters. Our Curcelkx'us at first wondered at the 
^iH'cch of this learned man, because thus far he had regarded a 
'•'■-cnt from the opinions of these masters as a sort of inexpiable 

324: Funeral Oration ujpon Stej)hen Curcellmis. [April, 

crime. Yet because lie gave great "vreiglit to tlie venerable 
wisdom of this man, and because the learned men sitting around 
did not oppose him, and because the mild discom-se by its own 
beauty commended itself to a temper not very severe, he determ- 
ined that ^vhat had entered into his mind before he vrould now 
do Avith the greatest care ; namely, that, led by no one's author- 
ity, but persuaded by truth alone, he would adopt opinions on 
religious matters as they were formed in his own mind. The 
result was that whereas he often consulted with his foster-father 
and relatives on reforming certain errors, he liated schisms arnl 
oppressions and the offering of violence to the consciences of 
others with the greatest intensity ; and finally he desired that 
a Church of this kind might be granted to him, in which shouhl 
prevail not only toleration in beaiing some errors, but a pul> 
lic prcfcssion of toleration. 


Celebrated at this time was James Armixius, a professor of 
theolocry in the Academy at Leyden, the fame of whose name 
and moderation was diffused upon the lips of men throughout 
the neighboring regions. And so our CurcellKus, moved by tljo 
reputation of Arminins, yet not without other reasons, deterin- 
incd to visit and consult foreign theologians. But when ho 
came as far as Heidelberg, a sad message was brought, announc- 
ing the death of Arminins, which not a little afflicted the mind 
of Curcelbeus, for he had taken a long journey especially to sec 
and hear that eminent man. Thus deprived of his object, lie 
turned back again to his own country, and thereupon, as v.e 
have said, was induced to enter upon the orders of the Churr;.. 
lie afterward lived on terms of friendship with Tilenus, L ten- 
bo«'^ardu5, Corvinus, and other eminent divines of the Churc' 
durinc; their exile in France, from whose conversation, breatu- 
inn- and inspiring forbearance, he was enabled to make no con- 
temptible progress in the study of toleration, as he often J-'V- 
fiiUy confessed. Xor when he dcpai-ted from the intercourse 
and communion of these men did those sacred principles "i 
toleration expire in liis mind, l)ut daily they attained a-y 
auspicious increase, and acquired that maturity in v,-hich, bj 
tlie £crace of God, we know that lie firmly stood, flouri=htd, 
and died. 

1SC3.] Funeral Oration ujpon Stephen Curcellceus. 325 


During liis life he followed this path of love, that he might 
r.l'undaiitlv receive the grace of God and the lavor of especially 
nj'proved men. For why should he not he pleasing and aeeept- 
ai.ic to God, who so justly, piously, and earnestly advanced his 
kingdom in these lands, especially when there were so many 
otlier traits subsidiary to this virtue ? For so great was his piety, 
tli:»t lie would utter or think nothing concerning God, unless 
with an earnest devotedness and humility of spirit. So great 
ws\s his temperance, that he was never known to indulge in 
rltricty, or to be allured by the snares of impurity. What need' 
I say of his well-continued zeal, his prudence, humanity, aflabil- 
ity. and singular gravity, all of which slione in his words, coun- 
tiiiance, and every action ? It was by reason of these things 
that he was constantly surrounded by the favor of good men. 
Hence he formed many abiding aiid most faithful friendsliips. 
A distance of places often destroys many intimacies with others : 
it U well known that tliis was never the case with our deceased 
friend. jSTot even in France did those friends, whose cause and 
■li.ctrines he had repudiated, desert him. I call Eivetus" to ydi- 
SK-S-, who always is accustomed to speak liighly of him in his 
I'lilihshed books and letters. I appeal to Blondellus,t who 
'if'sired to honor and embrace him as a brother. I also attest 
I^alhcns,:{: who publicly lamented that he ever by any harsh words 
^id grieved the most generous and friendly Curcellffius. Finally, 
I crdl to witness that eloquent old man xVgnetus, who at Yitri- 
^"uni was a colleague of our sage, and who remained with him 
=^n'l consoled him in his last afilicted moments. 

Kven those who cherished enmities toward Cnrcella3us liave 
'"'H-ted that they did not hate him, but esteemed him as a friend. 
Mwlina'iis may be cited as an example, who, although not accused, 
;'«-t excuses himself that he contributed notliing to his condemna- 
'^•v^'ii, nor was he a prosecutor or judge in this cause. And Sam- 

* Andrew Rivet, a cc-lebratc-d Dutch divine and controversialist. IIo assailed 
^-" fnili Calvinism of Amyraldiis and the philosophy of Descartes. 

t I>.u-id Blondel, a Protestant minister of Chalons, born in 1591 and died in 
' -■>■ lie was author of " Kclaircissement siir riuichaiiste," and of an " Apo- 
•S'-A i-or Sententia Sancti Hieronoini de Prcbbyteris et Episcopis." 

* John Dailee, author of the well-known work on the Usage of the Fathers. 
l-'oiuTu Sehies, Vol. XV.— 21 

326 Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcellaeus. [April, 

uel Maresius,* hostile as he was to our theology, claims to have 
cherished his friendsliip. I might cite others to this testi- 
mony who held him in veneration : the Petiti, the Yoscii, 
consuls and men of consular rank, senators and men of sena- 
torial rank ; the Ilasselarii, the Bassii, the Coccii, who never 
passed his door without pausing to enjoy conversation with him, 
and never allowed him undetained to pass their own. To him 
many were accustomed to resort, as if to the treasure-house of 
learning, the oracle of the state, the guardian of wisdom and 
humanity. If any weighty question perplexed the troubled 
minds of his disciples, he was ready to untie the difficult knot. 
If any one was to be commended or raised to a literary position, 
his opinion alone had more weight than that of many others. 
He alone was the representative of all. "When he praised I). 
Blondell as a congenial friend, and meritedly illustrious for his 
learning, he uttered the sentence that caused the authorities uf 
the institution to raise him to the high position of Professor of 
Ecclesiastical History. It was for this influence that the author- 
ities of the state, as we have heard, esteemed him worthy of an 
honor never before bestowed, of the right of citizenship, con- 
ferred not by purchase, but by gift; not by petition, but by 
free-will. Although he was surrounded and assailed by the plots 
of many who were anxious to deprive him of life or bring him 
to trial, yet these noblemen, fathers of their country, guardians 
of innocence, determined to guard and defend him by their own 
protection and by the privileges of citizenship. If, then, stran- 
gers (although who could be a stranger who so greatly favors 
him, and by him favors us?) who were separated from us ni 
external communion, cherished this man mUIi such honor, with 
what love ought we to embrace him, who enjoyed by daily inter- 
course his learning, and experienced so often his kindnesses ? It 
others ought to grieve at his decease, how much more his dear- 
est son and most beloved daughter? 

* Samuel ilaresius (Dcs .Nfarets) was a leading Calvinistic divine of the scveti- 
teenth ccntun-. He was a Picard, born in 1599, studied at Saumur under GoniarsJ 
and CapcUus. He became Professor of Divinity at Sedan, and was afterward I'r':- 
feasor at Gronigen. Ho was a very fierce disputant. Bayle celebrates "••' 
warmth and persistency of hi^" debate with Voetins, as well as the heat but brevity 
of bis warfare with Dailoe. liis bitterness toward Curcellaius, therefore, was o:..)' 
a part of a system or ponnanent habit. He might be called tLe To^ady c' 
tis day. 

16G3.] Funeral Oration upon Stephen Curcdlcsus. 327 


Yet so ead was his affliction, so severe and lasting were his 
) .lin.s tliat he sought consolation in the hope of approaching 
«ic:itli. But let us congratulate ourselves that he was enabled 
\o endure even for ten j-ears an ulcer upon the bladder, and so 
I lulnre that physicians and surgeons declared that* nothing less 
tli:iri death could be expected. There was a certain one in 
Frnnce at this time, who, upon the reception of the news of his 
(Ivccase, insulted and persecuted him with a funeral song. For 
ni»t as a deceased man did he honor him with any heraldry of 
n.->pect, but he composed this funeral dirge, as if he would tear 
lo ]»ieces his manes and bones, ferociously insulting him as a 
uciid lion, especially because he had not written concerning 
the law of God to his creatures as inimitably and vaguely 
fo they wished ; for which reason this poetaster did not fear 
to adjudge him to hell. Truly our God was above medical 
»kill, and a ■ despiser of calumnies and calumniators, who 
fL-.-tored him to health, and raising him as if from the dead, 
•iuiokly silenced the song of that wicked man, and showed 
t;.;it nothing had been done contrary to the law of God, but 
•;.;it all his thoughts and arguments had been to God's glory 
ill the denial that God was able or willing to cast the helpleso 
f-.-uls of innocent children into hell. As the phenix, according 
^^ report, revives fresher from its own ashes, so Curcellajus, 
itniggliijg from the shadow of death, entirely regained a new 
•''!V, and for his advanced years obtained well-established 
J'-dtli. He also produced from that time a fruitful progeny 
* 1 pupils, so that he strengthened and adorned the greater 
J ^rt of the Churches with a new generation of oflspring and 

His seventieth year being passed, he perceived his strength 
'--ainishing, and felt his incompetency for performing his former 
J->'>it labors. Tossed like a light bark on those rocks of dis- 
'^-<.' near which had been his former danger, a year had almost 
'■■*('><-d since the time when, in letters to our vouM-able synod, 
^-''_ t'xitlained the state of his health, and asked that measures 
'•■ '^rht l>e taken by the officiary, the brothers alike to the semi- 
"-'V und himself, concerning a successor and colleague. The 
»"r«'utest share of the subsequent time he passed upon his bed, 

328 Funeral Oration upon Stephen CurccUa^us. [April, 

under tlie severest anguish from his bladder, until the twentictli 
day of this month, when liberated from every affliction, absolved 
from every trial of pain, he surrendered his' soul to the God 
■whence it was derived and given. . 

I will not in this place deplore the brevity.of human hfo 
or the sorrowful vicissitudes of our deceased sage ; nor will I 
exclaim, with the most eloquent of orators, "O, fallacious 
hope and fra-ile fortune, and vain contentions of men, whieli 
fall 'are broken, and overwhelmed in mid career!" For this 
orator, howsoever eloquent, was not a Christian, nor was Lc 
able to appreciate in spirit or mind the extent and hrmn... 
of our hope. Moreover, we may learn from the deceased ]lo^v 
we ouo-ht to be composed and animated ; for as he was not Ir- 
from the experience of pain and anguish, so he bore his sutl.r- 
in-s with a calm and patient spirit. Taking occasion lr.n> 
his trials, we may learn the most arduous yet noble virtue w 
patience; for he dreaded not approaching death, but desired it, 
and panted that it might come with prayers and supplication^ 
because he knew that from death alone was there repose iroin 
labors and anguish, and by that same route his path to eternal 

' First from a copy of the Psalms of David, whence the fail 
streams' of solace flow, he frequently desired selections to .■' 
read Then he turned himself to prayer, in which he was aiue. 
by other reverend colleagues, and especially by the reverend 
Prc^vostius, with wliom also he had maintained extensive con- 
versations concerning the immortality of the soul and the stat. 
subsequent to departure. In all this conversation he attested 
his faith in God and Christ to be immovable, and his Hope ^■ 
every respect unshaken. In his last moments he exclaimed, 
« My God ! ^^Iv Father !" Then, turning to his surrounding 
children and friends, " For this hour," said he, ;' all things are 
well I am calmlv composed; I am exultant. ' So theutoK 
this faithful servant of God finished his last contest, complete '^ 
his cJurse, and attained that laith in Christ, ot' which the .:- 
is the crown of righteousness, the salvation ot the sou , am 
eternal. He believed reward of his labors to be hud iq | 
heaven That this was his reward we confidently belicNc . ■ ■ ^ 
trust; which source of consolation alone surpasses m nu ^'^ 
every other solace. And that not too sad or lamented sliou 

1SG2.] Foreign, Eeligiom Intelligence. 329 

be the recollection of that day in which he was taken from our 
oyef, God himself, the God of consolations, has abundantly 
j.ronded. For upon that day in which we Christians joyfully 
celebrate with sacred commemoration the glorious ascension 
of Christ into heaven, did Stephen Curcella^us ascend from 
the eai'th. How can that day seem sorrowful or calamitous 
to us in which Christ, borne into heaven, gloriously tri- 
umphed over mortality and death, over superior and inferior 
powers. Stephen, the proto-mart\T, when driven from life, 
exclaimed on bended knees, " Lord, lay not this sin to their 
charge." Our Stephen also imitated this prayer in that last 
dedication which he inscribed to the faithful servants of Christ, 
to the pastors of the Eeformed Church in the Isle of France, in 
Carapagne and Picardy ; desired to record for all that he had 
entirely expunged from his own mind every memory of injury 
or ofiense ; for whom he oflered his prayers to God that they 
might see the truth and embrace charity. I exhort them, 
therefore, to receive \vith magnanimity the last address of this 
eminent man. I beseech that if they hated him, (although who 
was able to hate him ? nevertheless they did not love him 
because they did not knoM- him,) that at least they may desist 
to hate him dead, who while living hated not them, but loved, 
and left a living testimony of the fact to survive his life. Ever 
will live that testimony of his forgetfulness of injury in our 
Hearts, nor ever by any forgetfulness of men or injmy of time 
will it be obliterated. 

Aet. Vm.— foreign religious INTELLIGENCE. 


TuE Ratioxalistic Coxtroversy.— 
As was to be expecte>l. the bold ad- 
V'X^acy of Rationalistic views by Bisliop 
yjlvuso has not only awakened a new 
^torest in the Rationalistic controversy. 

to deal with him, there vras also a gen- 
eral expression of opinion among: the 
clercry that soracthin;; ovight to be done 
to vindicate the orthodoxy of the Cliiirch. 
Several of the bishops early denounced 
in severe terms the heterodox views of 
Bishop Colenso, and declared that they 
would not allow him to officiate in their 

^'■-it also greatly increased its importance | dioceses. On February 5 a meeting: of 
^^' the future destiny of the Church of, the bidhops beiouLrini,' to tlio Convoca- 
f-u.^Iaiml. Although there was at first \ tion of Canterbury took place, at which 
* gC'ueral doubt how the Church ought [ there was a unanimous condemnation 


Foreign Beligious Intelligence. 


of Bishop Coleaso's book, though a 
smaU minoritv dilTercd from the rest as 
to the mode in which it was most ex- 
pedient to act. The prevailing opinion 
seemed to be that action sliould bo taken 
through Bi'^hop Coleuso's immediate met- 
ropohum. tiie Bishop of Capetown; but 
«3 this prelate is known to belong to the 
ultra High Ciiurch School, the evangeh- 
cal partv expressed some fear of in- 
trusting "to him proceedings of so grave 
importance. On February 10 the Con- 
vocation of Canterbury met, and, ac- 
cording to general expectation, took up 
at once the case of Bishop Colenso. On 
the second dav, February 11. -Archdea- 
' con Denison. having obtained the sus- 
pension- ©f the standing orders, moved 
an address to the upper house, praying 
the upper house " to direct the appoint- 
ment of a committee to examine a book 
lately publislied in London, within the 
province of Canterbury, entitled 'The 
Pentateuch snd Book of Joshua critical- 
ly examined.' bv the Rt. Rev. John 
■V^iUiam Colenso, D.D., Bishop of Natal, 
and to report whether any, and, if any, , 
what opinions heretical or erroneous in 
doctrine are contained in said book. 
Mr. Deaison quoted two passages from 
the prefi^ce. hi which he said the bishop 
denied the truth of itcripUire, and im- 
pugned the authority of Jesus Christ. 
He could iM.t avoid observing that it 
was unjwssible for the house to pass by 
such a mauer as this. The motion wns 
seconded bv Dr. M'Caul. who considered 
the book piiV-lished by Bishop Colenso a 
great scandal to the Church. Dr. il'Canl 
said he could tell of one who on going 
up for priest's orders spoke puljhcly m 
a railwav carriage of the unansweraVMe- 
ne^s of 't!ie book, and yet he was not 
deterred from going up to repeat the 
most solemn act of ordination. Arch- 
deacon Honev believed that the course 
proposed would bo inenectiial for any 
good purpo.^e, and would only give a 
lar<rer circulation to tho book, and he 
the'refore moved as an amendment, 
"That it is inexpedient tliat any steps 
should bo taken 'in Convo<Mtion with a 
view to revive the power ot consunng 
books or authors." This amendment 
was supported V,y the Archd.-acun of 
Stafford, who thought it ''Mremeiy un- 
wise for the house toestabh>h usdf uito 
a court to pass judg.uent on questions 
of heresv. Tho Dean -f < anlcrbury 
thought I'hc house, by appM.nlmg a com- 
mittee to iuquire into this purlicular 

book, would become a standing commit- 
tee to examine into all books, forming 
as it were an expurgatorial committee. 
'.Ehe original motion was. among othttrc, 
supported by Dr. Jelf The amendment 
beimr put to vote was negatived. Arch- . 
deacon Browne then moved the follow- 
inc: amendment: "That this houst-, 
deeply deploring the scandal on th'.' ^ 
Church and the danger to the adth of 
Christ which have arisen from the pub- 
lication of the • Bishop of Natal, but 
doubting as to the steps it may be de- 
sirable to take in order to remove the 
scandal and counteract the danger, ro- 
spectfuUv request his grace the president, 
and their lordships the bishops of tho 
upper house, to take counsel as to the 
wisest and most legal mode of proceed- 
inf^- and this house assures his grace 
and' their lordships the bishops of 
readiness to co-operate with tlient m tho 
course most fitting, and most likely to lo 
fruitful and good." Archdeacon Dew- 
son in opposinsT this amendment, snid 
that a refusal of the house to inquire 
into the very worst case that had hap- 
pened in the Church for the last two 
hundred years, would ruin the convoca- 
tion in the eyes of the public more tnan 
anv other course that could be pursued. 
The amendment of Archdeacon Browne 
was then negatived, and the origma^ 
motion adopted. On February lo the 
resolution of the lower house, desirin^ 
the appointment of a committee to ex- 
amine the book of Bishop Colenso, catne 
up in the upper house, when tho Biw- 
ops of London and St. David's opposed 
the appointment of a .committee, whicQ 
measure was on the other hand adyocai- 
1 ed bv the Bishops of Llandaff and un- 
•coln,' an.l fmallv adopted by the house. 
The lower house, on the same, appoint..', 
the committee of investigation, -i"" 
most decided opponent of the measure J.- 
the Bishop of LoDdon, who some tin., 
before, in a pastoral charge, expre---^ 7 
deprecated all resort to legal r^o^^^^ij; 
tions, except in extreme cases, to rc-P[J-- ' 
free thought, reminding his clerg)" tlu-^ 
"after all we are Protestants," ^f^}'"^ 
openly avowed that ho would re « 
rather than tighten the terms ot • u ■ 
scription. The new Archbishop o! L^u 
terburv, Dr. Longley, who is rega n ' 
as belonging to or, at all events, leanin. 
toward the High Church School, m t^ 
plv to the address of the clergy o t. 
rural deanery of Chesterheld had J- 
clared: " No effort shall be wanting on 


Foreign Eeligious Intdligence. 


CIV part, nor, I trust, on the part of ray 
f V*'t reverend brethreu, to vindicate the 
hiili of the Church iu this instauce, as 
fer us it is in our power to do so." 

On December 15 the judgment of the 
r<^ijrt of Arches in the matter of the 
y.'Mvjs and Reviews was pronoimced. 
I'r. Williams and Mr. "Wilson were pro- 
coimced to have departed from the 
loachinf;: of the Tiiirty-niue Articles, on 
;!i'- suVijeet of Holy Scripture being the 
written word of God. on the atonement 
o:id on justitication, and they were there- 
fore subjected to the punishment of sus- 
|vnsion for one year, with payment of 
CO* IS. How such suspension, without 
jviltlic acknowledgment of error, is to 
BJtor the position of their return to their 
f'iV;res in the Churcli it is difficult to un- 
d' rstand. The question will come next 
b-'f(tre the Privy Council, but the decis- 
ion will probably be maintained. 

Against another one of the Essayists, 
Trotessor Jowett, an action has been 
Ci>aiinenced in the Chancellor's Court, 
Oxford, by I>r. Pusey, Dr. Heurtley, ami 
I'r. Ogilvie. Some time before a case 
ha.l been submitted to the Queen's Ad- 
rotMte, Sir Robert PluUmore, whether 
i'r"fe5sor Jowett had so distinctly con- 
travened the doctrine of the Church of 
K.'V'land that a court of law would pro- 
iioimce him giuky. The Queen's Advo- 
cate had pointed out various pas -ages in 
_l!.e professor's work which in his opin- 
ion were at variance with the doctrines 
of the Church of England. The pro- 
<x->.'(liugs against Prc'fessor Jowett cre- 
^'••■'\ great interest in Oxford. 

The Protestan-t'1[i?siox ix Mad.v- 
vscAR.— The territory of Protestantism 
'fi Africiv, wJiich now comprises the En- 
rhsh possessions, the liepublic of Libe- 
f'^ the Protestants of Algeria, and a 
ii'imber of missionary congregations 
•wsong various Pagan tribes, is likely to 
'^-•'-■eive soon a largo and important addi- 
t."n by the advancing Christianization 
'-^- ihy island of Madagascar. Madagas- "xeoods in extent France, having an 
="■'•!* of about 240,000 square miles, with 
" !"pulation of about ;-;.OoO,060 iuhabit- 
*■■■■•■*• Protestant missions were lirst 
' ■'••bli-heil under King Pca.lama I., who 
'■ -"iid-d tb.e throne in ISdH. The mis- 
* n.-irics of tiie London Missionary So- 
''^■'■y (-liace 181S) reduced the native 
"'^b'uago to writing, translated and pro- 

pared the Bible, taught in the course of 
about ten years about 15,000 of the na- 
tives to read, and converted a large 
number to Christianity. The death of 
Radama, in 1828, put, however, a stop 
to the progress of the Protestant mis- 
sions. The widow and successor of tho 
Xing, Ranavalona. closed the schools, 
drove the missionaries from the island 
in 1S3G, prohibited tho profession of 
Christianity, and tried to exterminate 
the Christian congregations. In 18d6 
the queen's son, Radama, then seven- 
teen years old, embraced- Christianity, 
which through his iulluenoe began again 
to spread, although the Christians con- _ 
tinned to suffer persecution at the hands ' 
of the queen. The death of the latter 
in 1 SGI. and the accession to the throne 
of her Christian son, Paidaraa II., opened 
again the whole island to the preaching 
of Christianity. The Londun Missionary 
Society made at once preparations for 
reoeciipying the lield, and Rev. Mr. 
Ellis, whose former missionary labors in 
the island had made him fully flimiliar 
with the native Christians and the char- 
acter of the entire people, was sent back 
to Madagascar, lie arrived at Antanan- 
arivo, the capital, about the middle of 
June, and was received with great cor- 
dialit3' and joy by tho king and the 
ofticers of tho government. When Mr. 
Ellis mentioned the number and the 
specilic objects of the several mission- 
aries on their way to 2>fadagascar, with 
the supply of books, school materials, 
and jiriuting apparatus which they 
would bring, both, king and* queen 
thanked him for the communication, and 
requested him to assure their friends 
that it was peculiarly gratifying to them. 
Tlie prime minister, the eommander-in- 
ehief, the tirst oflicer of the palace, and 
other high authorities, some of them ap- 
parently most earnest Christians, wore 
equally cordial in their welcomes, ilr. 
Ellis has been requested by the king to- 
attend him daily fjr two hours to read 
with him. They read together out of a 
largo Bible, presented, in IS'Jl, by iha 
London Missionary Sucioty tu King Ra- 
dama I. Besides, he began at once to. 
instruct daily at his house eleven or 
tVN'clve sons of the chief nobles and offi- 
cers, and this class was soon joined by 
the adopted son of tho ((ueerL Mr. Ellis 
was well pleased with tiio religious feel- 
ing among the native congregations, and 
he found that the Chri.stians were still 
numerous. According to a report made 



Foreign Religious Intelligence. 


by the native pastors, their number 
amounts to about 7.000. Mr. Ellis s;iys 
tliat their piety and fortitude were mak- 
ing a great impression upon the rest of 
the population, who crowd to hear the 
Gospel proclaimed. He has asked the 
London Missionary Society for £10,000 
to build spacious places of worship on 
the spots consecrated by the martyrdoms 
and tortures of the native converts. 
The king has with alacrity appropriated 
the sites ; he and liis Christian people 
"will do what they can toward raising 
the required buildings, but they will be 
unable to finish the work without aid 
from abroad. 




GLiCAN- Churches axd the Kus- 
SIAN' CnuRCH. — For several years mem- 
bers of the Ki.-'h Churcli Party of the 
Church of England and of the Protest- 
ant Episcopal Church of this country 
have tried to open negotiations with 
members of the Eastern Churches, and 
in particular tjie Pvussian State Church, 
■with a view of preparing the way for an 
ultimate union of all the Eastern and 
the Anglican Cburclics. Of late tliis 
movement has assumed large dimen- 
sions, and tiiere is already a great prob- 
ability that ere long it may become one 
of the great ecclesiastical events of the 
nineteenth century. The General Con- 
vention of the Protestant PJpiscopal 
Church of country, held last year 
in the city of New York, appointed a 
committee to coiisider the question of 
"establishing intercommunion with the | 
Russo-Groek Chureh." The duhatc on ! 
this subject awakened a particidar in- 
terest among the friends of this move- 
ment in England, and called forth a 
letter from the Kev. George Williams, 
of King's College, Cambridge, who has 
had for some time clu.-e relations with 
many prelates and meniliers of the l^ast- 
crn Churches, and who on that account 
oflers his sernces to the Ainoricau com- 
mittee, ilr. "Williams, in ISdo. pul,li:?h- 
ed, in concvrt with his fri.'nd. lir. Wolli; 
proposals for the est;(l'li-hnieiit of a 
hostel for members of the Orthodox 
Greek Church in the Univershy of Cam- 
bridge ; and also, in the same year, went 
to Russia, to explain to the higluT eeclo- 
eiastics the principles on wiiich they 
proposed to conduct tho hostel. Ho 

conversed with many of their emin-nt 
religious men, and ascertained their dis- 
position toward the Anglican Cliureh. 
Previously Mr. Williams had resid..';! 
there for eighteen months, and gain- 
ed a good knowledge of the Russian 
Church and people, ifr. Williams ex- 
presses the opinion that any advance 
toward the establishment of relations 'if 
amity with the Russo-Greek Cliurch 
would have a much better prospect (jf 
success if made by the two Churches iu 
concert than by either alone, and he 
therefore suggests to the American (-nxw- 
mittee the desirableness of applyintr to 
tho English Convocation, and inviting 
them to a])point a committee to corre- 
spond and co-operate with the American 
committee in this business, in order that 
all that may be done may be the joint 
action of the two Churches. 

In order to show the views of tho 
bishops of England respectiug this mat- 
ter, Mr. Williams further states, that on 
the occasion of his visiting Russia in 
18G0, not only did his own diocesan. tl;o 
Bishop of Lincoln, and the Bishop of 
O.xford give him letters commendatory 
of the most formal character to the Met- 
ropolitans of Russia, and to the Holy 
Governing S,\'nod, as well as to the pa- 
triarchs and others of the EastiTU 
Churches ; but others of the English 
bishops, including tho present Aroi;- 
bishop of Canterbury, expressed tia-ir 
hearty interest iu the matter, and gave 
him less formal letters of amity to \\v^. 
same Churches. Besides these he h:i 1 
letters from Bishop Potter, of Pennsyl- 
vania, and from several of the Colonial 
bishops. These letters, he thinks, pro- 
duced a most favorable impression in 
Russia, and a record of the fact of tl;i.-:f 
presentation, with the names of 'ti'>-' 
bishops whose signatures the}' bore, w:i^" 
entered on the Minutes of the Synod. 

Mr. Williams also states that he 1.:^- 
already taken some action in the matter 
upon his own responsibility. He wruio 
to an intimate Russian friend, a ci-'Uiii. 
who has close relations with many 
learned and influential members of li:^ 
own Cliurch, ecclesiastics and others, t-" 
ask him if he could otTer any su-'vr'=- 
tions as to the best method of iirocefiir..' 
in this delicate business. Tho ans.^'' •■ 
of the count, which is dated Jan. 4. (!'■ • 
ISC:'., expresses the opinion that the ('P.'^- 
ent time is more favorable than th"--' 
selected for former attempts were, Ij'i- 
that it would be better to preparo ih» 


Foreign Religious Intelligence. 


miiiJs of the Russian people for such 
n JviiiK-cs before actually making them, 
liio count promises to use the religious 
I ri'ss of Russia to this end. and to com- 
iiiunieate with the confessor of the em- 
j>oror and one of the Kussian metropol- 
;:.'ns. As to the best manner to 
ci.iko the advances, he thinks that it 
w:ni!d be best to send some properly ac- 
credited deputy to the Holy Synod, with 
.1 lotter containing the proposals which 
It i< desired to make. 

The Convocation of Canterbury, wliich 
met on February 10, 1S03, had" also a 
di.-^oussion on the subject of opening 
cv>mmunicationwith the Russian Churcli, 
ftnd the lower house declared itself 
unanimously in favor of it. 


The Bclgariaxs — The UyiTED Eul- 
CAKiAN- Church.— If we may believe 
t'i.i Roman Catholic organs, the move- 
ruviu among the Bulgarians for a union 
witli Rome is again making great prog- 
ress. It is asserted tliat the tirst bishop 
'T tlie Church, Sokolski, who had been 
^^Dsec^ated by tlie pope himself, had 
n'-'ver left the Church again, but had 
I'^-on carried ofif against Ids will by the 
l'.us.sians, and was now retained by 
l!:cTn in a Russian convent. The pope 
IS .said, in an energetic note, to liave re- 
cvitly demanded his release.' Tlie Unit- 
'■d Bulgarian Church has now a patri- 
»rcti at Constantinople and an archbishop 
« Philipopohs. Tiiey have been rec- 
ivnized by the Turkish government as a 
I-^litical community, but they cannot 
take over witli them to the new Church 
«■'-• editices in which they formcrlv wor- 
fi'iped. These remain to the Greek 
< -'lUfoh. and the United Bulgarians b.ave 
=" build new chapel.^. Thev have a 
N-xrnal. in Constantinople, called Bnlja- 
pA which for some time was suspended, 
'■'-It has now been revived, and exercises 
& consiJcrable influence, because the 
'itTature of the Bulgarians, which is of 
^•-ry recent origin, has as vet but very 
'•;w periodicals. Toward 'the close of 
|-'o year 1SG2 the Roman Catholic pa- 
|*rs announced that a Bulgarian arch- 
*-""phad made his submission to the 
r-'i't- ; but later this news was modified. 
^ 't;e effect that the Archbishop of 
r"P''i^ on December 9, 1SG2, applied 
"f admission to the communion of the 
J';;">.'n Catholic Churcli, and that the 
^"10 application was made a few days 
■^tT by the assistant Bishop of Adrian- 

ople, but that it was found out that 
both applications bad been made from 
purely mercenary motives, and that they 
v.-ere therefore refused. The two bish- 
ops succeeded in inducing tive or gii 
young Bulgarians, wlio were on the 
point of going to Rome to make their 
theological studies in the Propaganda, 
to return with them to the Greek Church, 
j Tlie United Bulgarians are especially 
numerous in tiie province of Adrianople, 
where their total number in April, 1SC2, 
was stated to be 2,G12 families. More 
recently tiie movement is said to be par- 
ticularly strong in the diocese of Timo- 
vo, and Roman Catholic papers already 
announce the '• conversion " of the 
whole diocese. This is undoubtedly an 
exaggeration, but the actual transition 
of a number of clergymen and families 
rests on good autliority. In the town 
of Tirnovo about one "hundred families 
have joined tlie United Church, and are 
about to build a chapeh 

Very little has been heard during the 
past year of the national party among 
the' Bulgarians which is opposed to a 
union with Rome. Since March, 1862, 
Bisiiop Partheuios has been at the head 
of tins party, whose prospects are said 
to have suflered by the accession to the 
throne of tlie pres'ont sultan. The Bul- 
garians have somewhat changed their 
programme, and now demand onlv a 
national clergy, the use of the Bulgarian 
language at the mass, Bulgarian schools, 
and a thorough reformation of the abuses 
in the administration of the Church. As 
regards the supreme ecclesiastical gov- 
ernmeut. they are willing to remain under 
the patriarch of Constanfinople, if six 
bishops (just one half) of the Holy Govern- 
ing Syuod be taken from their nation. 

Progress of the Romax Catholic 
Church ix Syria.— It is said that nu- 
merous congregations of the Greek 
Church in the Plain of Damascus and in 
the country between Lelxinon and Bal- 
beck, are joining tlio Churcli of Rome. 
As the main cause of tliis movement, the 
liberal donations arc regarded winch 
are receivdl from France for the support 
of the Christian population of Syria. At 
the head of tlic Romanizing movement 
is the former Greek bi.-liop of the town 
of Ifolius. lie has soieniuly joined tho 
Roman Catholic Church, and as he is a 
man of great influence in .Syria, it is be- 
lieved that many will follow his exam- 
ple. A particular zeal for the interests 


Foreign Literary Intelligence. 


of the Romp.n Catholic Church in Syria 
is displayed by tho Paris " Association 
for Establishing Christian Schools in the 
East," in which not only zealous Roman 
Cathohos, but also, Ironi political motives, 
many prominent French statesmen take 
an active part. The bulletin of this so- 
ciety claims that more than four thou- 
sand '•schisniaticp," among whom were 
several priests, have already joined the 
communion of Rome, and that many 
others are on the point of following 
them. Rome has a number of able 
agents in Syria, none of whom has done 
more for the Church than Patriarch Ya- 
lerga of Jerusalem, who has been labor- 
ing in these regions for his Church since 
1840, and has been recently appointed 
by the pope delegate for Syria. Since 
he has occupied the patriarchal see of 
Jerusalem lie has established a semina- 
ry for the training of a native clergy at 
Beitehalla, and a new hospital at Jeru- 
salem; has introduced communities of 
nuns, for the education of female chil- 
dren and the nursing of tlie sick, into 
Jerusalem, Bethlehem. Jaffa, St. Jean 
d'Acre, Caiffa, and Chef-Amar, and ob- 
tained the restoiaiion to the Roman 
Catholics of a number of places in Pal- 
estiue which formerly belonged to them. 


IAN CuUKCH OF LvDiA. — Among the 

least known branches of tho Eastern 
Churches belong the Syrian Church in 
Travancore, India, often called the Chris- 
tians of Saint Tliomas. When the Por- 
tuguese, in tlic fifteenth century, estab- 
lished tliemselves on the coast of Iniia. 
they tried to compel the members oft'.i's 
ancient Church to submit to tlie \<'\'}. 
A large portion of the Church com]i:a'i, 
while another portion retained its in'ie- 
pendeuce. The latter are estimated a; 
some seventy thousand, while the fornur 
counted about one hundred and tifiy 
thousand, of whom ninety-six thousand, 
the United Syrian Church, with r.iiw.y- 
seveu Churches, still followed the .^c- 
cient rite of their Church, while the 
otliers have entirely identified them>clv«-p 
with the Latin rite. In the United Syr- 
ian Church (which had adopted tLe 
feith of Rome, but preserved its ancivi;; 
rite) of late a remarkable movement Ls 
said to have taken place. The niiss:.;.- 
aries of the Church Missionary Soc;e:y 
of England report that a deputation 
been sent by this Church to the Jaco- 
bites of Mesopotamia, and that one cf 
tho delegates was consecrated a bi-hr.i-. 
who on his return to Travancore dt-x-'.a.-- 
ed for a separation from Rome. V.'iih 
scarcely any e-tception, writes a missio'j- 
ary, all tho Syro-Ro.manists gave ;:: 
thoir adherence to the new bishop, and 
the Romish bishop was left with n:: 
more than ten or twelve parishes. 

Akt. iX.— foreign literary INTELLIGENCE. 


Dr. Etheeidge, author of the life of 
Adam Clarke and a biography of Coke, 
has just published a Translation of the 
Targuras of Oiikelos and J'jtiathan Ben 
Uzziel; v\-ith fragments from the Jeru- 
Balem Targum; from the Chaldee. The 
present volume cover Genesis and Ex- 
odus. The London (Wcslcyan) Quarter- 
ly says : 

It 13 superfluous to p.\v that Dr. Ethcr- 
idge makes his Ariimaie .-peak as good 
English as Aramaic eaii, and that his 
renderinss put the rcadur in rios.-^ossion 
both of the spirit and fonii of tin- original 
texts. Prefixed to the tr:Ul^l;ltion is an 
introductorv oliaptcr on tin; t/rlLrin, liis- 
tory, and chunictfr of tlic Tari'ums ; and 
■what greatly heightens the vuluo of this 

part of the work, two brief but elab-^nr 
ejiisodes are wrought into it, in wii;i. 
the author discusses the great questio;. 
of the teaching of the paraph rasts r( 
spcctin? tiie Divine Logos, and tLet'-.-:; 
mony which they hoar to the Sori;';i;r 
doctrine of tlie >iessiah. Those wh'^ •>' 
acquainted with Dr. EtheridLTo's J ;■' 
vious writings will not need to Ic !■ . 
that the learuine whicdi these pro'.t .'■ :- 
ena exhibit is large and tni<twtTthy. :;• 
that the value of the inforniatii'U ■' . 
contain is equaled only by tho v..y. 
modesty, the well-di.soiidincd judira.^ :• 
and the tender yet noble Christiiu: :> ■ 
ing which i>ervadc and adorn every j :• 
duction of nis pen. 

A pamphlet of some sixty-eiglit ^■^■^• 
has been published by ilason, eon.-.--: 
of " Two Lectxiirs on'tke Wesleyan //j;.» 


Foreign Literary Litelligence. 



lio-ik, bv the Rev. Joseph Ileaton." The I 
first Vc'tiire is devoted to biographical 
nkotches of the authors of the hymns. 
Tt.o second is a dissertation oa the 
hymns themselves. The lectures are 
eulogized very highly. 

The theological agitations of the day 
:tj Knglaud have induced Triibner to 
publish ^'Spinoza's Critical luquiry in 
thf Ikhrew Scriptures.'" It was origin- 
ally written in Latin; but the destruct- 
ives conceive that it is time to bring its 
views within the reach of the multitudes 
who read English alone. The Wtstniin- 
>kr Review says : 

He treats first of pro^'hecy and the 
ihets ; he considers tne form of He- 
Drew prophecy in its more remarkable 
charactoristics'to be due to an excitement 
"ftho "imagination,''' its end and scope 
D concern moral and spiritual truths. In 
his chaptiTOU law, divine and human, he 
distinguishes between the law of eternal 
Mid universal truth and verity, a!id the 
law of precept and application : and he 
f-Ms of the Mosaic laws that they were 
apprehended bv the Hc-brew legislator 
D'jt as universal truths, but as particular 
institutes. "We should be dad for En- 
^h.ih readers who have only heard of 
^pinoza as an anti-Chri-tiau and an 
atheist, to remark what follows : " Froni 
this point of view are those prophets to 
be regarded who have uttered laws in 
the name of God. But Chri-*t is an ex- 
ti-ption to this rule. Of him I hold we 
ar« to opine that he perceived things im- 
mediately, adequately, truly ; lor Christ, 
though "he also appears to have enun- 
ciated laws in the name of God, was not 
»o much a prophet as he was the mouth 
of God. When we say that God reveal- 
ed himself immediately to Christ, (that is, 
to the mind of Christ,") and not mediate- 
ly as to the prophets by words and si^ns, 
''■•th'iiii; more is to be understood tuan 
that Christ perceived revealed things 
truly, adequately, and in themselves, or 
that he comprehended them; for then is 
thing really comprehended when it is 
perceived by the mind itself without the 
murvention of siicus. Christ, therefore, 
P'.Tceived revealed things in themselves 
'^'J adeouately ; so that if lie ever pre- 
»erib(.'d them !is rules or laws, it was be- 
I'luse of the ignorance and obstinacy of 
'he people he addressed. Standing as 
the Riihstitute of God, he accommodated 
himself to the capacity of the vulgar, and 
»r">ke more clearly 'than the prophets 
K'-nt-rally Jiad done, though still some- 
what ob'scurely, often teaching by par- 
* h'^, especially when he was addressing 
t->"!<e to whom It was not vet '.xiveti to un- 
d'.Tstund celestial things.'"'— Pp. 'J7, 9S, 

Spinoza's doctrine as to tho value of 

the biblical histories is^ that they do not 
of themselves form part of the divine 
revelation, and do not all of them, or 
necessarily in all cases, contribute to 
make meii better or more spiritual, but 
are only of use so far as they do this, 
and in reference to the moral doctrines 
they contain : by reason, however, of 
their containing' and illustrating these 
moral doctrines more fully than other 
histories, the Bible histories arc superior 
to all others. Then follows a most able 
chapter on Miracles, the suju of which 
may be gathered from the ensuing defi- 
nition of the word : "From these prem- 
ises, therefore,' namelyj that nothing hap- 
pens in nature which does not follow 
from its laws ; that these laws extend to 
all which enters into the divhie mind; 
and lastly, that nature proceeds in a 
fixed and' changeless course; it follows 
most obviously that the word miracle 
can only be understood in relation to the 
opinions of mankind, and signifies noth- 
ing more than an event, a phenomenon, 
the cause of which cannot be exj^lained 
by another familiar instance, or in any 
case which the narrator is unable to ex- 
plain."— P. 124. 

A London rector of the Established 
Church, said to occupy an important po- 
sition, has published' a work entitled 
" Fonjireness after Death : doe-i the Bible 
or the Church of England ojjirm it to he 
impof^sihle f' lie maintains that in 
spite of the equivocal terms " everlast- 
ing fire " in the Athanasian Creed, and 
"everlasting death" iu tho Catechism, 
the literal eternity of the misery of the 
damned is not an obligatory Church be- 
lief. The Church standards, he avers, 
contain nothing like those words of the 
Scotch Presbyterian Church, defining 
the penalty of the wicked to be " ever- 
lasting separation from the comfortable 
presence of God, and most erievous tor- 
ments in soul and body, v/itliout inter- 
mission, in hell-fire forever." In regard 
to the intentional exclusion of the doctrine 
of.endloss misery from tlie standards of 
the Church of England, this rector gives 
the following remarkable statement : 

But what proves beyond the possibil- 
itv of doubt that the silence of our own 
Cliurch was deliberate and intentional, m 
the fact that in tlic Artieles adopted in 
the vcar IJ.-'L', there was one relating to 
this" very subject which afterward wtuj 
simplv omitted. This Article, the 42d, 
and hist of that earlier code, was headed, 
" All men sliall not be saved at the 
Icncrth." and ran as follows : " They also 
are worthy of cundemnation who en- 
deavor at "this time to restore the dan- 
gerous opinion that all men, bo they 


Foreign Literary Intelligence. 


never bo nn^odly, sliall at length be ! Epistles, and the Epistle to Piiilf-nio!) 
saved, when tlicy"have suffered pains for I The other volumes, thus far piiblis'^i-l 

their sins a certain time appointed by 
God's justioe." The Article was ^vholly 
withdrawn in the course of ten year:?, 
and 'the Cliurch of England has virtual- 
ly pronounced that no dogma on the 
subject of future punishment shall be 
binding upon her clcrgv or her members. 
—P. 21. 


The highly important collective \s-ork 
on the Lives of the Fathers of the Re- 
formed Church, {TAien und ausgevMlte 
Schriften d'^r Jieformirten Kirch e. Elber- 
feld.) with selections from their v-ritinp:s, 
which has been for several years in the 
course of publication under the super- 
intendence of Professor Hag.enbach, has 
now been completed by the appearance 
of volume nine, containing the second 
half of tlie Lift of Calvin, by Stahelin.^ 
and volume ten, containing the Life of 
John Knox, by F. Brandos. All the 
theological periodicals of Germany com- 
mend the v.ork as one of the very best 
that has for some time appeared in the 
department of theological literature. 
The counterpart of it, which embraces 
the Liies and Stkd Writings of the 
Fathers of the Lutheran Church, and is 
edited by the venerable Dr. Nit;^sch, is 
likewise rapidly approaching completion. 
Four volumes have hitlicrto been pub- 
lished, having the following contents: 
volume one, Mclancthon; volume two, 
IJrbanus Rliegius; volume three, J. 
Breuz; volume four contains P. Spera- 
tus, C. Crucigcr, N. von Amsdorf, M. 
Chemnitz, J. Jonas, L. Spongier, P. 
Eber, Dr. Chytrceus. The following 
four volumes, which will conclude the 
•work, will contain '•Luther,'' in two vol- 
umes, "Osiauder," and " Bugenhagen." 

One of the most important Bible 
works, when completed, will be that 
published by Professor Lange, of Bonn, 
which has, in addition to the matter found 
in most of the German commentaries, a 
^^ Homilttical Commentary.^' pointing 
out the application which may be made 
of the matter contained in every chapter 
or section of a biblical bo(«k for sermons. 
Professor Lange himself has furni.shcd 
the commentaries to tlie (Jospels of Matth- 
ew, Mark, and John, and together 
with a theologian of lioUand, Dr. von 
Oosterzee, that to the Epistles of James. 
Dr. von Oosterzee has besides written 
the commentaries to Luke, tho Pastoral 

contain the Acts, by Dr. G. Lechler and 
K. Gerok: the Epistles to the Corinth- 
ians, by Dr. C. F. Khng; the Epistle <■;' 
Paul to the Galatians, by Schmollor; 
the Epistles to tho Ephesiaus, Philip- 
pians, and Colossians, by Profe?;or 
Schenkel; the Epistle to the Hebrew.-:, 
by Dr. Moll ; the Epistles of Peter v.-xi 
the Epistle of Jude, by Dr. Fronmiiller. 
Of the Bible work ofBunsen the New 
Testament part has been commenced, t^ 
be edited by Professor Holtzniann, (■^^ 
Heidelberg, who has also recently pi:'o- 
lished a work on the S}-noptical Go?pel.% 
their origin and historical character. 
{Die Synopti-schen Eiangdien, ihr Ur- 
sprung v.nd Geschichtlicher Character. 
Leipsic, 1SG3 : pp. 530.) 

The professors of the Evangelical 
Theological Faculty at Strasburg, Franc.'. 
Reuss, Cunitz, and Baum are on ti'' 
point of publishing The Covipkte Works 
of Calvin, printed and manuscript. 
Every year about two volumes will l-."i 
published, and the whole work will con- 
tain about twenty volunies. The price 
of a volume will be $-1. 

Friends of German literature will be 
glad to learn that Mr. Perthes of Go:iir>.. 
tlie publisher of a largo number of ti..- 
standard theological works of Germany, 
has begun to publish, under the nanic 
Theological Library, (Theologische L^i'i- 
othek. Gotha, 1&G2,) a cheap and i;:.;- 
form edition of the works of Dr. X:.':-- 
der, Dr. Ullmann, Dr. Umbreit, and L'r. 
Tholuck. Tho "Library" will coni-'.ui 
tho " Apostd'jeschichte,'' " Lehen Jrsu,^ 
Kirchengeschichfe, Heilige Bernhardjk.f-- 
u-iirdigkciten, Kai<:cr Julian, Kkine. A ■ 
handlungen, by Dr. Neander; Prophtt"' 
des Alten Bundes, Erbauung avs (i-.-; 
PtaltKr, Der Komerhri'.f die Siind-:. ar.'i 
four other works by Dr. Umbreit ; /-' ''' - 
von der Siinde, Predigttn. Studdea a^j-. 
AndMcht, Bt-rg Fredigt, E>:angdit::'i J- 
hannis, Ikhraerhrief Altes Testamr.i >'-^ 
X. T., I'rophden and four other work- ' .^' 
Dr. Tholuck ; Siindlougkeit Jesii, i?-;; ■■"■• 
ataren, u-e.<:tn des Chrisienthums, au>i t\^| 
other works by Dr. Ullmann. AH tl. ■--■ 
works are well known to belong ji^-'---' 
the classic works of modern Geru)»a 

The celebrated Codex ^i^'i'-'-'- 
which Professor Tischendorf, theui.n-ov- 
erer, considers to bo tho most ancifCi 


»r.d important manuscript of tlie BiUe, 
Um now- been printed at the expense of 
'.he Kussian government, in an edition 
</ ihreo hundred copies, all of whicli 
»fro intended by the Russian govern- 
nii.tit for presents. Subsequently the 
r:iiifTor has, however, given to Pro- 
(i-««i>r Tiscliendorf one hundred copies 
f.T ilio book-trade, and they are for sale at 
*j:'.0 a cony. The claim of the Greek 
i^ixotiides, a well-known literary forger, 
liiat the manuscript was written by him- 
».!f. has not found many l>eliever3 in 
tbo literary world. 

Of the long e.xpected work of the 
Chevalier de Rossi, Inscriptiones^Chri-s- 
titnw Urbis Romance scptimo saculo 
an'.iiriorcs, the tirst volume (price $36) 
has been recently published. The whole 
work will embrace more than eleven 
ilioiisand inscriptions, which in this 
Work are for the first time arranged, ex- 
jviiti-d, and illustrated by accurate flic- 

A complete Ei-story of Scholastic Phi- 
l:p>]Ji>j has been recently commenced by 
It. W. Kaulich, a young professor of 
f t'.iloiophy at the University of Prague. 
S^i'^rhichte der Scholasti-schen Philoso- 
}-iiie, vol. 1. Prague, 1S63.) Germany 
Lvl hitherto done less for the history of 
ihiio.-oiihy during the middle ages than 
rV:irjee. which has produced some ex- 
ii--!!cut works on the subject. As more 
Mx-ntly a number of formerly unknown 
*orks of the middle ages had been dis- 
fovcre'J and edited, and ne\'.- light has 
^-■^n shed on many points by critical 
t-'!ition.-i of the complete works of some 
'-■'■ the great medieval scholars, a new 
work on scholastic philosophy, embody- 
'■■-' all the results of recent investiga- 
'<■■ :iS had become a great want. Tlie 
*'-itii"jr, who has already made himself 
kuovvii to philosophical scholars by a 
^■frk on Scotu-s Krijcua. has especially 
tf.'.-<J to show up the connection between 
'^•" ph-.liisophical attempts at the bcgin- 
"^'"^ of the scholastic period, and to 
J'-'C'.' the ideas which underlie the whole 
♦5«-eulative moment and the influences 
*Uoh conditioned its development. 

•^'ne of the greatest philosophical 
* n;.rs of Germany, Profes.sor Heiurich 

*;•-'■' of Gottingen, has commenced the 
y'"'_'^"''''i'>u of an Encyclopedia of the 
Y^'^yi'hical Sciencts. (Kncijchpi'ulie 
J*" ^'■'li'MojjhischenWi^'^en.srhoflen, vol. 1. 
^'-Uitii,'.,!!, 18G2.) Tho author intends 
^ extojino critically tho philosoph- 

Foreigyi Literaiy Intelligence. 


ical systems which have been hitherto 
brought furward, and tries to find the 
real results which may be gained from 
them for a new system. The first vol- 
ume contains the introduction, and inves- 
tigations on science in general. Of the 
two following volumes, wliich are soon to 
appear, one will bo devoted to natural 
and one to ethical science. 

Tho distinguished author of the work 
on Christian P'thics, Professor Richard* 
Rothe, has published, in book form, a 
series of articles on ''Dogmatics," 
which had appeared in the Studien und 
Kritikej>. of which Rothe is now one of 
the editors. {Zur Do'/matik. Heidel- 
berg, 1863.) These articles have called 
forth a. great deal of discussion among 
the German theologians. Rothe diffor.s 
widely from the old orthodox school of 
theologians, and in particular attacks 
the belief in a verbal inspiration of the 
Scriptures ; on the other hand, however, 
he strongly advocates the supernatural 
element of Christiauity in particular 
miracles. The volume contains three 
articles, the first of which treats of tho 
conception of evangelical doctrines, the 
second of revelation, and the third of 
the Holy Scriptures. 

A new work on the Sacrificial Bites 
nf th". Old T^i^taiii'mt has been published* 
by the Church historian, J. II. Kurtz. 
{bcr Jltttstainentliche OpfercuUus. :Mi- 
tau, 1862.) The author divides his work 
into four parts. The first treats of tho 
general bases of the sacrificial rites of 
the Old Testament ; the second, of tho 
bloody sacrifice, both in its totality and 
of the ditferent kinds ; the third, of the 
unbloody sacrifice ; and tho fourth, of 
the rites customary at particular times 
and occasions. The cuthor publislied, 
as early as 1842, a book on the "Mosaic 
Sacrifice." (Las Jfosaische Opfer,) and 
inlended at first to give this in a thor- 
oughly revi.sed edition : but other tlieo- 
log'ical \\-ork delayed this project longer 
tlKui was at first "intended, and the lec- 
tures which the author had more re- 
cently to give on riblical Archiuology, 
induced him to prepare an entirely new 
work on the subject. 

Dr. Hugo La-nier, formerly lecturer 
on Protestant TheJogy at tlie LTnivcrsity 
of Berlin, and luav a Roman Catholic 
priest, has published a new work on 
the result of his researches in tho li- 
braries of Rome. He assures us that 
during tho first year of kia stay m 


Foreign Literary Intelligence. 



Eomo, until July, 1860, he read throuj^h 
and made extracts from more than one 
hundred and seventy volumes of histor- 
ical and theological manuscripts. Tlie 
most important results of these studies 
for ecclesiastical histor}' he publislied, 
in 1861, in a work entitled Anahxtha 
Romana. From September, ISGO, nntil 
his departure from Kome, he -worked 
tiirough two hundred and five otiier 
manuscripts, mostl}^ found in the libra- 
ries of S. Croco in Jerusalemme, S. 
Pietro in Vincoli, Angelica, and Corsi- 
mana, and his discoveries in these four 
libraries he has made public in a volume 
entitled, Contributions to the Church His- 
tory of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Cen- 
htries. (Zur Kirchengeschichte des 16 
und 17 Juhrhundefts. Freiburg, 180,1.) 
The work is designed as a forerunner to 
a larger work, entitled S/ncilegium Tio- 
maniim IJistorico-Eedesiasticum, of which 
the first volume is soon to be issued. . 

The History of Protestant Theology, 
{Frank, Geschichie dcr Frofestantischen 
TJieoIogie, vol. 1. Leipzic, 1862. 8vo. .vii, 
428 pp.,) by Gu=tav P'rank, Professor at 
Jena, is the first complete work on a sub- 
ject of great interest fur all friends of theo- 
logical science. The numerous histories 
of Christian doctrines which modern 
"Germany has produced had created a 
general demand for a good and compre- 
lien.sive history of tiieology, and the 
theological faculties of nearly all the 
German imiversities have commenced to 
provide for a regular course of lectures 
on the subject. On some periods we 
have, moreover, received a scries of ex- 
cellent works, as, on rationalism, tlie 
works of Tholuck Iltickcrt, and others 
on modern theology by Karl S'-hwarz. 
But the above work of Frank is the first 
which embraces within it.s scope the 
•whole range of Protestant theology, 
principally, of course, in the laud of the 
author, from Lutlier down to the jirescnt 
time. The author divides the "History 
of Protestant Theology " into the follow- 
ing three periods : the first extends 
from Luther to Gerhard. 1517-1618. It 
is the period of fcrnicutation, which re- 
sults in stability. The second, from 
1648 to 1750, unfolds the contest be- 
tween stability and pa'_Te>:s, beginning 
with the Gnosticism of CaH.'J t and ci iiichid- 
mg with the philoso[.hy of WkUW The 
first one, according to our author, in 
which Protestantism has brought about 
a legitimate marriage botweeu theology 

and philosophy. The third period 1»^. 
gins, in 1750, with the German enlic!::- 
enment, and extends to tlio pre.-i-nt 
time ; it is the period of developir.<,-nt. 
The first period, embraced within t';o 
first vohime, just published, is subJi- 
vided bv the author into four divisions. 
The first, from 1517 to 1746, he calls the 
heroic age of tlie Church ; the secoi. i, 
from 1546 to 1580. the post-classic y-^- 
riod; the third, from 1580 to 1600. tl.o 
period of confessional polemics; and ihe 
fourth, from 1600 to 1648, the time of 
orthodox systematicism. 

The^keen and immense learning cf 
the late Professor F. C. Baur, the 
founder and head of the so-called Tu- 
bingen school, have been so generally 
acknowledged that his posthumoiis 
work on the Churcii History of the Nine- 
teenth Century (Baur, F. C. Geschich'e 
der Christilchen Kirche. Vol. 5. Tiibin- 
gcn, 1862. xiv, 557 pp.) is sure to find 
many readers. The work consists of ti.o 
lectures on ilodcrn Church History-, whici: 
the late author used to give at the Uni- 
versity of Tiibingen during every summer 
since 1S50. It is divided into tiir-- 
parts, the first of which ^-ontains the 
time from the beginning of the nine- 
teenth century to tlie year 1S15. Ti>:- 
second the time from 1815 to 1830. T'.c> 
third the time from 1830 to 1861. l'\ 
each period he first traces the history -.'i' 
the Roman Catholic, and next that of the 
Protestant Church. An introduction to 
each period describes its political cco:- 
plexion. The work is mostly confined 
to the history of the Protestant German 
State Cliurches; but in' the third pa.--; 
treats al.^o of tlie Protestant Churches 
of Catholic Germany, of the non-Genr.aa 
Protestant Churches, ' and the sects cf 
modern times. 


The correspondence of a man like 
Lacordaire will, of course, find many 
attentive readers. The first installnK-iil 
of it, consisting for the most part of let- 
ters addre.-sed by Lacordaire to \^'-* 
former pui>ils, has been publi.shed I'y 
Abbe Pcrreyvc. (Lettres du Fetere'.ii 
Pert Lacordaire d des Jtunes Ce^- 
Paris, 1862.) The celebrated Ddminicin 
monk, who remained faithful to the l.b- 
eral and democratic principles which h-' 
professed as representative of tlie peop> 
in the Constilueut Assembly of 1^4^, 


foreign Literary Inidligence. 

*»» pxcluded by the French emperor 
f. a> Uio i)ulpits of Paris, and spent tho 
U«: vcars of his life as teacher in an ed- 
4,,.i'. n'.al institute which he had revived 
fcS S^,rize. liis relation to his pupils 
«>* vtTy intimate, and he retained a 
p-cit influence on all Vv-ho had once 
t. ..n under his instruction. Shortly 
N : .n; liis death he summed up his pro- 
<« ^^;on of faith by avowing himself ''a 
t-:.itcnt Christian and an impenitent 
;-..ral." He was one of the great pul- 
}■ t orators of the age, and the French 
A-.'uleniy bore ^^itness to his literary 
r.<Tits by electing him a member, an 
t:.:,or whicb, for more than one Jiundred 
»!;J fifty years, had not been conferred 
iilvu another monk. 

One of the prominent Christian mys- 
'.-.■■; of tlio present century was the 

> T' ;:i"h philosopher Saint Martin. Cha- 
; •a'.ibriaud calls him a mau of great 
1.' rit, of a noble and independent ehar- 
» -'.er. whose ideas (when they were ex- 
jCc.ibk') were of an elevated and su- 
i-:l<.r nature. Madame de Stael, M. de 
i!.x'tre, the German philosopher Baader, 

> ^•J^in, and Saint Beuve, studied his 
♦■■■rks, and tried to initiate the world 
.:.t.j his ideas. Saint Martin has re- 
"» :uly Ibund a biographer {Saint Mar- 
'••X Le Philosopher Jnconnu. Paris, 
'•^02. Pp. 4G0) in M. Matter, formerly 
;' 'r-.-ssor at the Protestant Theological 
>'30i)!ty at Strasburg, and well known 

> v his book on Gnosticism, a General 
' ."i jrch History, and other works. Mr. 
W---u.:r avows himself to be an enthusi- 
**t:c admirer of Saint Martin. He pro- 
f."iucos him to have been a brilliant 
t-Miiker, a tender soul, the most cele- 
' "ted of the mystic writers of oiu- age, 
» I'-rfcct sage. Thriuks to fortunate 
'• H-ovories and indefatigable researches, 
^r- Matter has been able to be more 
'^■'Tiplete than any of his predecessors, 
'••■!ii in narrating' the life of Saint Mar- 
^'' and in analyzing his works. His 
*'!'n is, in particular, a rich mine of 
s.'rmation for all who wish to study 
'■^■•: uature and history of mysticism. 

'•ao of the most popular writers of 
>:(.i.rh Protestantism, Felix Bungener, 
^ -^ "•' published his Lectures on Calvin, his 
*- ' ■• his Work, and his Writings. {Calvin. 
f * '''^, ^un, Oeuvre, et s:-s Ecrits. i*aris. 
*"''-') There has been of late, in Geneva 
''•^ if. a qtiite lively controversy on the 
fharacter of Calvin. Julius Barei, Pro- 

fessor of History at the Academy of Ge- 
neva, in a series of lectures on the Martyrs 
of Free Thought, was very severe on Cal- 
vin, on account of the part he took in 
the burning of Servetus, and called him 
both the denouncer and the executioner 
of Servetus. Against these attacks 
Bungener defends the honor of Calvin, 
finding exculpating arguments in tho 
ciiaracter of the times, and concluding 
with the words, " And now, if you are 
able, cast a stone at him." 

German and French periodicals com- 
mend higlily a new work on the relation 
of Christianity to civilization, (Le Genie 
des Civilisations, par J. P. Trottet, tom. 
1, 2.) The author expresses as the aim 
of his work to aid in the restoration of 
a Christian society in a time of decay 
and despondency. The true spirit of 
Christianity, and its world-reforming 
power, shall be comprehended more 
fully and profoundly by a historical cog- 
nition of human society in its center,- in 
its innermost substance, in the prin- 
ciples of tlie spiritual life of history, 
ilr. Trottet insists that in order to com- 
prehend fully thfc' facts, the ruins and 
remains of past ages, we must first of 
all understand the mental faculties of 
the nations which gave to them their 
particular kind of existence, and the im- 
piilses of that conscience which worked 
out tiieir destiny. W'c must have an in- 
timate knowledge of tho process of de- 
velopment of the ages that preceded us, 
in order to see clearly at what stage in 
the development of the race we have 
arrived, and what duties our age de- 
mands from us. But the most important 
question for the historian who holds this 
view of the development of the human 
race, is to fix the relation of Christianity 
to human nature to tho history of oiur 
age. The history of civilization must bo 
able to show that we have the right to 
proclaim, in the future as in tho past, 
Ciu-istianity as tho salvation of tho 
world. It must be m.ide the true science 
of apologetics for our age. Tho two 
vohunes published by Mr. Trottet aro 
confined to ancient history, and treat in 
three sections: 1. Of Hie ante-historic 
I epoch ; 2. Of the progressive civilizations 
wh';se principle had a formative power; 
I and, :i. Of Jewish theocracy. The author 
I expected soon to follow up these two 
I volumes by that part of his work which 
I treated of modern civilization, when a 
sudden death overtook bun. 


Synopsis of the Quarterlies and [April, 

The indefatipablo Abbe iligno pub- | 
lishe3 in the French papers a complete 
list of the theological works issued from 
his extensive establishment in Tarii!. 
They comprise, amonpr others, a com- 
plete edition of the Cliurch Fathers of 
the Latin Church from llie apostolical 
ago to the times of Innocent 111.; of 
those of the Greek Church to Photius; 
and another scries embracing the Greek 
■writers -^vho were or are claimed to have 
been in favor of a union between the 
Greek and Roman Cluirches from the 
time of Photius to the Council of Flor- 
ence; a collection of Commentaries on 
the Old and New Testament ; a collec- 
tion of standard Roman Catliolic works 
on Dogmatics, and another of standard 
works^on f:cclesiastical Law; another 
of Apologies for Christianity and for the 
Roman Church; another of Roman 

Catholic Pulpit Orators ; Dictionaries of 
the Bible, of Sacred Philology, of Litur- 
gy, of Ecclesiastical Law, of Hcresio*, 
oi' Councils, of Religious Orders, of Uo 
ligions. of Sacred Geogra[)hy, of MoriU 
and Mystical Theology, etc.; a Churcii 
History by Henrion, in 2.5 volume.-^; 
editions of the complete works of a 
number of distinguished Roman Catliul:; 
writers of France. Altogether the h.--t 
comprises 2.000 volumes, which c.-st 
10,000 francs. A new work has re- 
cently been commenced, which, in \<'> 
volumes, is to contain "Historical Re- 
searches on the Ancient Nations and 
their Religious Worship, to serve as an 
introduction into the fundamental pi-^ints 
of Christianity in general and Cathoii- 
cism in particular." It is edited liv 
Abbe Desroohes. {Recherches Historiquts 
sur les Feiiples Anciens. Paris, 1SG2.) 


Art. X. — synopsis OF THE QUARTERLIES, A^^) OTHERS OF 

American Quarterly Beviews. 

A^fEKIC\^- PKESiiYTi:KiA>- AXD TiiKOLOGicvii REvrE-u', January, 

(Xew York.)— 1. Hard :\Iattor. 2. Dorner on the Sinless Pcriectiou of 
Jesus 3. Bulgarian Popular Sont^^s. 4. Laboulaye on the United States 
of America, o. Baptism for the bead. C. Cairncs on the Slave Power. 
7. Ik-lief of the Indians in Inferior Spirits. 8. Politics and the Pulpit. 

TiiE Brr.i.icAL Revektoky and Princeton Review, January, lt=H^-. 
(Princeton, X. J.)— 1. Hoi)kins's :\Ioral Science. 2. The Liberties ol 
the Galilean Church. 3. The Skepticism of Science. 4. TrainmLT ot 
the Children. 5. Dr. Nicholas I\rurray. G. The True Place of Man m 
ZooloL\v. 7. The War. 

The Bos'tox P.Evrp:w, January, 18G3. (Boston, Mass.)— 1. Atoneuient. 
2 The English "Woman at liome. 3. Obligation and Ability. 4. N ic- 
tornu'^o's"Les:Mi.-erat)ks." 5. The Sixth Day of Creation. G. Mn^- 
Stowe*r Recent Novels. 7. Richard de Bury. 8. Short Sermons. 

The Evangelical Qcat.tekey Review, Januarj-, 1SG3. (Gettysburir. 
Pa )_i. The Miraculous Triumplis of the Early Church. 2. A\ hy dui 
Jesus Pray* 3. Rationalism and Supraiiaturalism. 4. The Union ol 
Christ and Believers, o. E.xposition of Mark ix, 49. G. Christianuy 
and Politics 7. Life tuid Corrc-spondence of John A. Quitman 
Efficient 3Iinistry. '.»• 'fhe Di-nity of the Ministerial Ollicc. lU. Rcua 
niscenccs of Deceased Lutheran 3Iinisters. 

TiiE New Englanukk, January, 18G3. (New Haven, Conn.)—!. Goethe ; 
" Fatist.-' 2. The Le-al Rights of IMarried Women.* 3. A Chapter o. 
Character Writinv^. 4. Financial Aspects of the Rebellion. _ 5. 
Faith and Reason. G. Religious Liberty since the Rcformatioa 



1 SG3.] Others of the Jiigher Periodicals. 341 

lljiiLiOTrrECA Sacra ant) Biblical riEPOSiTonT, January, 18G3. (Ando- 
viT, Mass.) — 1. The German Reformed Church. 2. English Lexi- 
o'ljrnphy. 3. Tlie Moral and lieligious Value of our National Union. 
4. Alliens ; or, ^Esthetic Culture and the Aat of Expression. 5. The 
I)ottriue of the Annihilation of the AMcked. 

Tht^ article ou the German IvcformecT Church in America is a 
liU-iiding of theology and history. It possesses a degree of inter- 
< >t as a history of a Church wliicli for a while began to expand 
\\\ ihis country with the Christian spirit of the age, but has latterly 
Tiiidergone a subjection to a very thorough conservatism. The 
r.'sult does and will, we think, appear in a consequent inefficiency 
ill extending its evangelical power, and in winning a world to 
Christ. The Foreign Literary Intelligence, from the pen of W. 
1'. W., promises to be interesting and valuable. We hold that the 
I'r-t quarterly for our ministry to take is the Methodist ; the next 
is the Bibliotheca Sacra. 

I>\NviLLE Review, December, 1802. (Danville, Ky.) — 1. Imputation and 
i>ii:,'inal Sin. 2. ^lontal Science. 3. De Ethice. 4. Politics and the 
Church. 5. Studies on the Bible: Xo. 3, The Wonders in Egypt. 
C. Negro Slavery and the Civil War. 

The article ou Imputation is the conclusion of a. series by Rev. 
V-. W. Landis, displaying a great mastery of the erudition of the 
•ihjcct, and dealing with Dr. Ilodge with much force and some 
•• 'Verity. Dr. Breckenridge has an extended plea against the 
l're>ident's Proclamation of Freedom. It is not by any means 
••' riUon in the spirit of senators DaA-is and Powell. Our reply to 
!i would be brief A restoratloji of the Union without the cessation 
"J i'lavery \oould he hut an armistice irregnant with future war. 
AboHtion is the sole path, short and sure, to peace; and the sooner 
't i-> taken, the shorter, surer, and happier. 

English Bevicivs. 

J^iiiTrsTi and Eokeigx Evangelical REvif:w, Januan-, 18G3. (London.)— 
^ 1 Readjustment of Christianity. 2. IIip])oly tus's Homily a<:raini*t Noetus. 
•'• The Philosophy of the Unconditioned Examined. 4." Theories of the 
'-"r.l's Day, Domuiical and Sal)]x)tarian. 5. The Greek Testament of 
•> ••lister and Wilkinson. G. The Revision of the Prayer Book. 7. The 
-it<rature of Pascal's Thoughts. S. Tlic flatter of Prophecy. 9. ■Mr. 
l.iw^f.ll's Letter to the Bishop of Oxford. 10. Dr. Cunningham's Histor- 
'' >' Theology. 

' "': f iinisTiAN Remembrancer, January. 18G3. (London.)—!. Brizeux's 
l-'le and Works. 2. The Relation of Calvinism to 3Io.lern Doubt. 
;*; Arthur Hugh Clough. 4. Saisset on Pantheism. 5. Christopher 
j>')rth. G. The American Church in the Disruption. 7. The Past and 
' r<-»"at of the Mormons. 8. The Clergy Relief Bill. 9. Scotch Liturgical 
>iatters. 10. Recent Latitudinarianisin. 
I'^otnTii Series, Vol. XV.— 22 


342 Syno_psis of the Quarterlies and [April, 

The BRiTisn Qcaetekly Ixeviev;', January, 1803. (London.) — 1. Thicr-',-> 
Romance of the Campaign of 1815. 2. The Les^al Status of the Anixlo- 
Catholic. o. Sir rhilip'Sidncy, his Life and Writings. 4. Mr. Herbert 
Spencer's First Principles, o. " LesMiserables." 6. Bishop Coleuso on 
the Pentateuch. 7. The State of Greece. 

JouR>-AL OF Sacrkp LiTEitATURK AND Pecord, January, \^[\?,. 
(London.) — 1. Bishop Colenso and the Pentateuch: the Criticism of 
Arithmetic. 3. The Protestant Ck'rgy in Bohemia. 3. Rcuss's "History 
of Christian Theology." 4. The Dublin Codex Rcscriptus. 5. Exegr^^i^ 
of Difficult Texts. G. Marcus Antoninus a Persecutor. 7. The Inter- 
pretation of Scripture. 8. The Egyptian Dynasties of Manetho. 9. Notts 
on Bishop Colenso's New Book. 

The Lontdox Quarterly Review, January, 18G3. (New York : reprint.)— 
1. Peru. 2. Institutes for Working ^^len. 3. Constitutional Government 
in Russia. 4. New Testament. 5. The Ticket-of-Leave System. 6. South 
Kensington Museum and Loan Exliiljition. 7. Life of John Wilson. 
8. The Stanhope Miscellanies. 9. Four Years of a Reforming Adminis- 

The Loxdon Review, (Wesleyan,) January, 18G3. (Loudon.) — 1. Davidson 
on tVie Old Testament. 2. The Pictures in the late E.xhibition. 3. St. 
Clement's Eve. 4. The British Association at Cambridge. .'5. The Kcv- 
olution of lS4j^. G. Ten Years of Imperialism in France. 7. Apostolic 
Theology. 8. Nova Scotia and her Resources. 9. Greek Testament 
Literature. 10. The Established Church : Defects and Remedies. 

The Westminster Review, January, 18G3. (New York: reprint.)— 

1. English Convicts : What should be Done with them. 2. The Litera- 
ture of Bohemia. 3. Bishop Colenso on the Pentateuch. 4. Les 3Iisc- 
rables, l)y Victor Hugo. 5. Indian Annexations : British Treatment oi' 
Native Princes. G. Tiie Microscope and its Revelations. 7. Greece an' 1 
the Greeks. 8. 31. Rattazzi and his Administration. 

TuE National Review, January, 18C3. (London.) — 1. Bishop Colenso on 

the Pentateuch. 2. Orley Farm. 3. The Crisis an Prussia. 4. Shelley's 

Poetical Mysticism. 5. Eternal Punishment. 6. The Law of Maritim- 

Capture and Blockade. 7. Home Life in Denmark and Norway. 8. Tli'.; 

Flavian Cesars. 9. Learning in the Church of England. , 10. Lancashire 

in 18G2. 

The article on Eternal Ptinishmeut is earnest and trenchant. Il 

claims that that doctrine underlies the great body of tlie skepticism 

of the present day; that the Church of England, if irrevocal'ly 

committed, must fall ; but that the Church of England is not in lact 

so committed. 

►-♦-• ■ 

German Bcvieuis. 


for Theoloav and Church. Edited l)y the Professors of the Thcologic".' 
Faculty at Dori)at, Ru.<sia. Fourth Number. 18G3.)— 1. Dr. Von EM'^' ' 
HARDT, The Religious and ]Moral Life of Paganism : India and Gne*''. 

2. Dr. VoN Oettinoen, Regeneration through Infant Baptism. 3. ^\ >' ' 
LIOERODE, A Visit in Ilcrmannsburg. 4. Cakldlom, Review of tin- 
Lutheran Dogmatics of Dr. Kahnis. 

Germany has of late produced a considerable number of able work-^ 
on the pagan religions ; both on the nature and history of paganism 

1 Sn3.] Others of the higher Periodicals. 343 

iji general, and on the religions of several countries in particular. 
Maiiv of these works have greatly enlarged .pur knowledge of the 
rv'li'-^ious systems of paganism, especially those of Asia, the inform- 
ation on Avhich has been largely derived from sources formerly 
entirely unknown. Some of tlie chief rcsirlts of these modern inves- 
tiirations Avith regard to Greece and India fonn the suhject of the 
first article in the Dorpat Review, which has been prepared by the 
Trofessor of Church History at Dorpat. The article is chietly based 
on Niigelsbach's Homeric Theology and the Post-Homeric Theol- 
OLTV of the Popular Greek Faith, Koppen's Religion of Buddha and 
its Origin, Leo's Lectures on the History of the German people, the 
Works of Roth and Weber on India, and those of Wuttke and 
DoUiuger on Paganism. At the conclusion of his able and very 
interesting article the author uifers, as clearly proved by the his- 
tory of Greek and Indian paganism, first, That the human race did 
not proceed as it now is from the hand of the Creator, since in 
liiat case men in their helplessness, in their sin without redemption, 
in tlielr hunger and thirst without satisfaction, would be condemned 
to everlasting torments and the Sisyphian labor of an eternal and 
rruitless search after God; and second, that Christianity is not 
t!ie natural fruit of human development, but rests on the revelation 
"{'God through his Son. 

Zf.itschrift fur "WissExscnAFTiJcnr: Thkologie. (.Jouraal for Scientific 
Theology. Edited by A. Hilgenfdd, Professor at Jena. 18G3. First 
luinibcr.)— 1. Hilgenfeld, The Theology of the Nineteenth Century, 
and its Relation to Religion and Christianity, with Particular Eefereuce 
to the Work of Dr. Baur. 2. Mekx, a Critical Investigation of the Sacri- 
ficial Laws, Lev. i-vii. 3. David FntEDRicn Strauss, The Lamentation 
of Jesus over Jerusalem and the 2o6ca -ov (deov, Matt, xxiii, 34-39 ; Luke 
xi, 40-51 ; xiii, 34 et scq. 4. E. Zeller, On James i, 12. 5. IIilgenfeld, 
tlie Johamiean Theology. 
l^r. Strauss, the author of the "Life of Jesus," was understood to 
'•ave renounced theological studies forever; but here he appears 
■^-'^in in a theological Quarterly of Germany with aji original arti- 
<■'*'. The author does not seem to have modified any of his Ration- 
alistic views about the origin of the books of tlie Xew Testament. 
Ji*-' tries to prove in this article that the words in Avhich Christ 
! '■"plitsied the destruction of Jerusalem were not spoken by him, 
''•'!l taken from a book entitled lo({iia rov Qe&u, (Wisdom of God,) 
^-liicli, according to him, was written sliortly after the destruction 
'^r .lorusalera. The existence of a Jewish book under the title 
" ^Visaom of God," had been, before Strauss, assumed by Ewald 
=^'idr>]eck; yet Ewald considered it to have been written in the 
'.tlh century before Christ. 

344 Synopsis of the Quarterlies, and [April, 

In the first article, Professor ITilgenfeld, of Jena, gives — on the 
basis of the posthumous work of the late Professor Baur of Tiiblu- 
gen on the Church History of the Nineteenth Century — a brief 
Burvey of the devclopnient of German theology in the eighteenth 
and nineteenth centuries, and in particular discusses the influence on 
it of Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Schelling, and Schleierraacher. The hook 
of Baur is utterly destructive in its character. It condemns the " old 
faith " of Christianity ; it rejects the jhediation attempted bctwcfn 
the old faith and modern science by Schlciermacher; but it nowhere 
clearly states what is to take the place of the former foith of the 
Christian Avorld. It dismisses its readers with the poor advice 
that every one must try the best he can to settle for himself the 
irreconcilable contest between the old faith and modern science. 
Ililgenfeld is less opposed to the theories of Schlciermacher thnn 
Baur; but he likewise foils to give ns a clear view of what would 
remain of Christianitv if the old Bible Christianity were taken aM'av. 

French Heviews. 

Revct: des Deux Mo>-des.— December 1, 18G2.— 1. Klaczco, The Union 
Movement in Germany. 5. ^Iazade, Meditations of a Liberal Priest. 
8. Blerzy, Sul)marine Telegraphs. 

December Vi.—I. EsQuinos, England and English Life, (eighteenth article.) 
3. Du IIaii.i-y, The Acadians and Nova Scotia. .5. Mazade, Count 
Andre Zamoyski and [Marquis Wiclopolski. 7. LEMOI^-^•E, The Greek 
Kevohrtion of 18C)Q. 

January 1, ISGo. — 1. Cn. de Remusat, The Mission of Authors. 9. Yek- 
DEiL, The Cotton Famine. 

In the article entitled ^Meditations of a Liberal Priest, in the num- 
ber of Deceml)er 1, we are made accpTaintcd with some of the recent 
-writings of Father Gratry, one of the leaders of the liberal catholic 
school in France. Koman Catholicism has never, perhaps, had a 
school whieh united so much eminent talent ; we need only point 
to Count IMontalembert, Father Lacordaire, Bishop Dupanloup, 
Prince Broglie, 'M. de Falloux, Ch. Lenormant, the astronomer Lc- 
verrier, all of iX-hom rank among the first scholars of France, and 
nearly all of whom liave been elected members of the French Acad- 
emy. Their works have given them a world-wide reputation. 
Their earnest Christianity has been acknowledged by all Protestant 
writers, and their literary ability is acknowledged by all partle-. 
Father Gratry is the philosopher of the school, and he is generally 
regarded as one of the best French philosophical writers now lin- 
ing. He has written numerous works, the three most recent <-** 
which, Les Sources, a treati'^e on the education of the spirit and tli'' 
science of duty ; La Paix, liistorical and religious meditations on 

If 03.] OtheYs of the higher Periodicals. 345 

tlu' influence of religion on society; and Commentaire sur I'Evan- 
^'ilo Scion Saint Matliien, are reviewed in the article of the Revue 
«lcs ]')eu.\; Mondos, 'svhich highly recommends them, 

Hkv'UE C^RETIE^^7^^E. — November 15, 18G2. — 1. Navii^i.e, The Oriental 

Studies of M, Franck. 2. Ktjhn, Essay on Voltaire. 
Ih.-cmhr 1. — RossF.EU"sv Saes^t-Hilaike, Calvin according to his most 

recent Biographers. 2. Vulliemk, Louvois, according to the Work of 

t'amille Rousset. 3. Mevlan, The Origin of Christmas'. 4. ScHAEFFEn, 

Saint i\Iarthi. 

Tow of the foreign periodicals contain so interesting a list of articles 
as the Kevue Chretienne. Each of the six articles of the two 
monthly numbers noticed above will be sure to attract the attention 
of most of the subscribers of the Review, and each one is sure to 
rivet the attention of those who have commenced their reading. We 
have felt a particular interest in the article on Voltaire, which gives a 
beautiful sketch of the frivolous character of the celebrated French 
(I'-ist, and of the atheistical company of scholars who assembled at 
tlic Prussian court, in compliance with an in^-itation of Frederick 11. ; 
rilso in the biographical sketch of Calvin, by Professor Rosseeuw 
Saiiit-FIilaire, one of the most eminent French historians of our age. 
Kike all contributors of the Review, Professor Saint-IIilaire is an 
n'linirer of the United States, and regards in particular the relation 
hetween Church and State as it exists in our country as a model ought to be followed by all Europe. 


Art. XL— quarterly BOOK-TABLE. 

Religion, Theology, and Bihliccd Literature. 

The Canon of the JUijly Scriptures Exarained in the Light of Jlistory. By 
I'rof. L. GArssEK, of Geneva. Switzerland, Author of '• Theoi^neusty," 
" Birthday of Creation," etc. Translated from the Frencli, and abridged 
hy Edward K Kirk, D.D. 12mo., pp. 463. Boston: American Tract 

^ liis book, as we noted in a former number, is a portion of a larger 
^'•••rk by Gaussen, prepared in opposition to the movement of 
•Vliorer. The work on Theopneusty, written by the same author, 
introduced to our country by the same translator, has had an extens- 
'\_e circulation ; and its great influence in sustaining the higher 
^ •'■«■» in regard to inspiration in the United States alone is an 
•*"i{>le moral reward to the learned and eloquent author. Tlie 
|*f'"^crit work is superior in execution to the Theopneusty, if not 
' '''^ulatod for so palpable an effect. There is a liner finish of style, 
■'J iewer adventurous positions and doubtful argumentations. 

346 Qaa/t'tei'ly Boole -TahU., [April, 

In what manner and by what authority were the books consti- 
tuting our present Xew Testament selected and credited witli a 
divine authority ? The skeptic and the Romanist put tliis question, 
each with a difterent purpose : the former to overthrow Christianiiv, 
the latter to establisli the sole authority of the Church, that is, of 
the Romish Church. A notion prevails that the selection was made 
by ecclesiastical councils ; and the suspicion is cherished that it was 
by an ai'bitrary and unfounded process, leaving out other works 
quite as well entitled to divine honors as the constituents of the pres- 
ent canon. To this our eloquent author furnishes the full reply. He 
shows that as the successive books came from their authors, there 
is satisfactory ground for the conclusion that they were immediatelv 
accepted by the body of the Christian Churches with complete 
unanimity; that their autographs were, some of them, deposited in 
archives of the particular Churclies ; that they were accepted and 
read from Sabbath to Sabbath ; that copies were taken and spread 
broadcast during the apostolic day, and Avidely scattered through tlie 
Churches of Europe, Asia, and Africa, and that they were received 
without dissent, with a free spontaneous faith, as the authoritative 
exposition of Christian doctrine, as the canonical Scripture of the 
Xew Dis])ensation. After these canonical books were written an 
interim of silence appears. Few or no Christian writings are issued. 
But the moment this silence is broken, a new class of eminent intel- 
lects hold the pen, and from them Ave learn that while the Christina 
Church fornis an immense body throughout the world, eight ninths 
of our present Xew Testament are held by her imanimous voice, 
are installed as the divine charter of her existence, and the infal- 
lible standard of her f;iith, order, and practice. "When asked who 
selected the books of the canon, we might well answer, Xobody 
selected them ; they took their place spontaneously. They formed 
into a body of themselves, with the unanimous concurrence of the 
witnessing Church. 

And this age, in whose sacred silence the canon was born, 
the age of the ai)Ostolical martyr Church, govenied by regent-^ 
selected by Christ himself, in full possession of miraculous gifts and 
the power of the discerning of spirits. "Were we to say, then, that 
the books were singly written by individuals animated by no special 
inspiration, but by only the ordinary measure of the Spirit then 
vouchsafed to the eminent and holy men in the Church ; that they 
uttered only in the most truthful s]iirit the facts of the Gospel nar- 
rative, or in the most wise and devout spirit the doctrines and 
sentiments of Christianity ; what then? \Ve nevertheless have a 
canon every Imc and word of which is accepted and indorsed as 

) • 

|u;(;3.} Quarterly Boole -Talle. 347 

llic rule of faith, the word of history, the doctrme of Christ. Peter 
iTfoJ, and Paul was excited ; but the sacred canon depends not on 
IVtor or Paul singly, or upon Matthew or Luke, but additionally 
tipon the concurrent acceptance and ratification of the Pentecostal 
C'huich. What was the natm-e of the individual inspiration of 
i':ich writer is, then, a question of justifiable and rational curiosity. 
It is a proper subject of investigation in the light of reason and 
Scripture ; but we doubt whether it is one in which the divine 
mUhority of the Xew Testament or the Old is so deeply involved 
:is is generally supposed. Should a man tell us, " I cannot believe 
J hat the words of the New Testament, with all their solecisms, 
tangled sentences, ambiguities, and incomplete expressions of the 
thought, are dictated by divine wisdom ;" we should re2)ly, "Biitat 
any rate those words were sanctioned by the charismatic Church as 
the true expression, in their proper meaning, of the Cluistian faith." 
The present volume is intended as a popular exhibition of the 
doctrine of the canon, and as such we cannot conceive of anything 
tnore admirable. To render such a topic popular is a very difficult 
t;isk; and yet there are many lay inquirers, young and old, who 
have their thoughts and their misgivings, to whom books of an 
infidel character are accessible, who need an antidote like this, 
which shall attract by its life, clearness, and eloquence, while it 
instructs and convinces by its argument. And, we may add, there 
lire many of our ministry mIio will find it a very refreshing and 
confirming volume. 

The Life of mr Lord vpon Earth ; Considered in its Ilistorical, Chrono- 
logical, and Geographical Relations. By Samuel J. A^"T)REW3. l;Jmo., 
pp.624:. New York : Charles Scribncr. 1SG2, 

The ])opular reader will need to consume little time in discerning 
'hat Mr. Andrews lias prepared for him no light reading, no grace- 
ful pictorial narrative, to beguile him into tracingthe events of our 
Lord's life as he would the scenes of a romance. Just as expedi- 
tiously the scholar will find that he is deaUng with no ordinary 
««iaster of the erudition of the subject treated, and that deep and 
Hrious work is before him in these pages. 

Assuming, with a reverent yet free spirit, the authenticity and 
historical truth of the four Gospels, omitting all discussion of points 
«•! theology, exegesis, arclueology, or verbal criticism, ^Ir. Andrews 
•M'l'hes his strength to questions of the chronological order, the- 
l';»rmoniziag of the ditlerent Gospels Avith each other and with 
♦'-•leiuporaneous history, and the geographical localities of the 
^'obpel events. His volume opens with un elaborate discussion of 

348 Quarterly Booh -Tahle. [April, 

nearly fifty pa^cs of fine print, of the dates of the Saviour's bu'th, 
baptism, and death. The two genealogies are sifted, and the con- 
clusion adopted that while Mnvy is of the royal line, yet both pedi- 
grees given are Joseph's. Tlie nature of the relationship of tlio 
Lord's "brethren" is debated, including the point of the perpetual 
virginity of the blessed :\[other, and the conclusion diffidently 
attained that the " brethren" Avere truly uterine half-brothers. The 
train of discussions through the work, of which these are specimen?, 
is conducted in a spirit of passionless candor, patience, learning, and 
modesty, which render the work a credit to American scholarship. 
The best research of Germany, France, England, and America is laid 
under contribution ; but while a due deference is paid to authority, 
the conclusions are evidently wrought out with much original inves- 
tigation, and in a spirit of unassuming but manly independence. 

Becmstrudion of BIUIchI Theories; or, Biblical Science improved _iu its 
History Clironolugy, and Interpretation, and relieved from Traditionarj- 
En-ors and Unwarrantable Ilvpothoses. By Lkicester ^Vsibrose Saw- 
yer, Translator of the Scrijiture, etc. 12mo.. pp. 195. Boston: >\alker, 
"Wise, & Co. Xew York : J amcs Miller. 18G2. 
Mr. Sawyer interprets the old Hebrew documents in accordance 
with the'thcorics of development and a limitless chronology. He 
accomplislies his object by first resolving the sacred writings into 
fragments of allegory and tradition; and from this plastic state he 
can of course " reconstruct " them to any eligible form. Adam is 
the name of the race in its brutal or semi-brutal stage ; Eden is the 
woodland in which he roamed naked and not ashamed. Language, 
wherewith he names his inferior beasts, is his first attainment. Eve 
discovers a fruit which she sees to be tempting and fears to be poi- 
sonous, until she sees that it is eaten by the sei'pent race, or rather, 
by "a pet serpent" kept by her; and by eating it man attains tiie 
age of reason and morality. What sort of fruit this was is doubted. 
Smne think it was the apple ; but Mr. Sawyer, though he entertains 
great respect for the ai>ple, excludes it. Some think it was the 
fig ; but i^Ir. Sawyer, though he esteems the fig, cannot accept the 
fig.' He finally decides that this fruit, eaten by the serpent and 
growing on a tree, h — ichmt, including all the cereals. jMan next, 
attaining the sense of decency, invents garments, first of leaves, and 
Bubsequ^'ently, by arriving at the art of tannery, of leather. Age= 
pass, and men emigrate to the highlands of India, which is com- 
memorated under the legend of the Flood; and the ark was simp!) 
the dry-goods box in which their eilects were packed for traveling- 
The race was still further improved by the mountain air. Throng > 

1SC3.I Quarterly Booh- TaUe. 349 

countless ages since has it been advancing, until at last it lias 
rittnincJto a true inteqoretation of its own genetic documents, as it 
is j. resented in this book of Mr. Sawyer's. The book, then, at the 
present moment, is the ultimate point of human attainment. 

TU Vi'ords of tlie Lord Jcv's. Ey Rcdolpii Stier, D.D., Chief Pastor and 
Superintendent of Schkenditz. Translated from the revised and enlarged 
German edition, by the Kev. William B. Pofe, Manchester, Eng. Revised 
l.y James Stko>"g, S.T.D., and Hexky B. Smith, D.D., Professor in 
I'nion Theological Seminary, Xew York. Svo., pp. 144. New York : 
^liuisters' Library Association. N. Tibbals, Agent. 

Tiiis is the Part First of an American reprint of Pope's translation 
of Stier, to be issued monthly, at seventy-five cents per number. It 
is done up in a handsome plain style, in close double columns, and 
in clear but not large type. It is brought by its cheapness and easy 
terms of payment within the reach of most preachers and biblical 
feholars. The reputation of the American revisers, it is unnecessary 
for us to say, is a pledge for the thorough scholarly character of 
anything that comes from their hands. It is equally unnecessary 
for us to restate our high estimate of the richness, depth, and beauty, 
ia the midst of much dilTiiscness, to be found in Stier's pages. There 
i^ little that the evangelical Church generally would desire to expur- 
irate. The peculiarity, which he shares with Miiller and perhaps 
1"lioluck, of holding to some mode of reconciliation with God, per- 
i^.'ips in the intermediate state, after death, is the most objectionable 
point ; but that seldom appears, and is never pointedly obtruded. 
We trust that this brave venture of Mr, Tibbals in these stormy 
titaes "wiU prove a success. 

Thf Spiritual Paint of FiVw ; or, tlie Glass Reversed. An Answer to Bishop 
Colenso. By 'M. Mahan-. D.D., St.-]Mark's-in-the-Bowcry Professor, etc. 
'^vo., pp. 114. Xew York : Appletons. 1SG3. 

riiis little volume does not profess to be a complete and formal 
'■'•ply to all of Bishop Colenso's objections to " the historical char- 
•vter " of the Pentateuch ; it only aims to show the essential infi- 
delity and partisan unfairness of the bishop's method of handling 
the word of God. This it accomplishes eflectually. Chapter XT, 
^''1 the Character of Scripture History, is a very clear exposition of 
"'at subject. We cannot say that we regard Professor ^Nlahan's 
'•''fidcntal attempts to clear up the ray>itcry of the Scripture num- 
•^■rs as particularly happy. We are decidedly of the opinion that 
Ihtso are to be taken in their literal exactness, except where liable 
^'■' the suspicion of textual corruption in the process of transcrip- 

350 " Quarterly Book -Table. [April, 

Philosophy, Mdaphy»lcs, and General Science. 

Manual of Geology : treating of the Principles of tlie Science, with Special 
Reference to American Geological History. For the use of College'', 
Academics, and Schools of Science. By James D. Da^^a, >r.A., LL.T)., 
Silliraan Professor of Geologv and Natural History m Yale College. 
Illustrated by a Chart of the World, and over One Thousand Figures, 
mostly from American Som-ces. 8vo., pp. 814. Philadelphia : Theodore 
Bliss & Co. Loudon : Trubncr & Co. 1863. Price, §-i. 
"'There is, perhaps, no part of the world," says the Atlantic 
I^Iontbly, " certainly none familiar to science, where the early geo- 
logical periods can be studied with so much ease and precision as 
in the United States." Availing himself of this important fact, the 
distinguished Silliman Professor in Yale has, in the goodly volume^ 
before us, given a new^ and interesting phase to the study of 
Geology in the numerous Academies and Colleges, where it will 
undoubtedly be adopted as a classic. He has given this science 
naturalization papers on American soil. Without at all, destroying 
the catholicity of the science, he has Americanized it. Thereby the 
pupil, in mastering the theory of the science, becomes practically 
familiar with the geological character of the various sections of his 
own country. 

Professor Dana divides Geology into four general compartments : 
1. PnvsTOGRAPiiic Geology, in which are presented the gcnend 
features of the earth. II. Litiiological Geology, which gives us 
the character of the rocks, their elements, method of making, and 
Btratilications. III. Historical Geology, or the earth's changes 
in relation to time, in which paUontolofjy discloses her wonders. 
IV. Dynamical Geology, or a contemplation of the/orce5 by which 
tliese changes arc transacted. In this beautiful arrangement, every 
topic which this yotmg science has yet developed finds its own 
appro]>riate place. 

There are three points of contact between Geology and Tlieologv, 
of special interest to every -thoughtful man; namely, Cosmogony,^ 
the Antiquity of the human race, and its Unity. On the last two ot 
these three, Professor Dana takes those higher views which recog- 
nize Man as belonging only to the Historical Period, and as formuig 
a sole o-cnus, whose unique qualities of mind indicate relations to a 
higlier^phere than the mere material. Of the five geologic Ages 
the last is the Age of :\Ian and Mind. Certainly the man of s^i-^ 
ence, unless he willfully chooses to make a stupid cephalapod oi 
himself, must recognize that hi the x\ge of Man we arrive at ■^ 
being in whose brain the concei)tion of an all-comprehensive Mui' , 
overspreading and grasping the ages of change, and the conception 

1503.] QuarUrly Book -Table. 351 

of the underlying "world, revolving tbrongli these changes, have 
Ikk"!! able to meet. In spite of Sir William ITaniilton, man's mind 
«1.K'S conceive or at least receive the Idea of the Infinite ; and between 
n mind that cannot conceive this Idea and the mind that can, there 
is ji diflerence in degree which no diflerence in cranial capacity or 
ni:ic:nitndc can adequately represent. 

The Westminster Review remarks that the post-tertiary ago of 
the earth is now the battle-field on which is fought the question of 
the antiquity of the human race. Professor Dana concedes the 
txistence of fossil man, and gives an engraving of the Guadaloupe 
^kolcton, the inferences from which are rebutted by quietly men- 
licning also "the remains of Caribs killed iu a fight with a neigh- 
boring tribe two centuries ago." He concedes the arrow-heads of 
Abbeville and other similar discoveries, to which our Quarterly has 
heretofore adverted, and adds, "The facts appear to place it beyond 
«Ioubt that man began to exist before the extinction of the post- 
l< rliary races." But he soon as quietly notes that 

Prc?twich also remarks tliat "the evidence" from the occurrence of human relics"" 
"'ith the bones of extinct animals, "as it at present stands, does not seem to me 
t" necessitate the carrying of Man back in past time, so much as the bringing for- 
•' -rd of the extinct animals toward our own time ; mv own previous opinion, founded 
cr. ux\ independent study of the superficial drift or pleistocene (post-tertiary) deposits, 
! i'-irig hkewise been certainly in favor of this view." 

Professor" Dana afterward remarks, 

Hut until Asia has been fully explurcd, and found to afford corresponding facts. 
l-i'-' term shoidd be regarded as belonging to European history rather than to that 
f^ the human race; and so also with all conclusions with regard to the characteris- 
t>-".s of the earliest of mankind derived from the forms of bones or skulls. Geology 
••'■re passes over the continuation of the history of man to Archaeology. 

We have then an intimation of the Edenic and Human period iu 
iho following : 

^ TiiO observation's thus far made appear to accord with the view, already expressed, 
■• 'I' m the Terrace epoch there occurred both the decline of the post-tertiary races 
*y'5 the introduction of the modem tribes of mammals, together with the creation 

• • -Man. Other animal tribes must have been at the same time replenished, espe- 
'•"•!y tliose of birds and insects, which are terrestrial. Among fruits and flowers 
■^ ^l' not improbable that many kinds were introduced that added both to the beauty 
»-•■» wealth of the finished world. 

The whole section entitled "Man of One Species," is full of 

In cosmogony. Professor Dana adopts the nebular theory, with 
'••<' processes of development traced by Guyot. The six Mosaic 
y-*ys of creation, then, being great mundane periods, are divisible 
'•'to double threes ; and these double threes are found traceable in 

• •''• actual processes of creation. The double threes are nearly the 
"Hf as we have given from Mr. Ilorisou in a former number of the 

352 Quarterly Book -Table. [April, 

Quarterly ; and we arc gratified that science here discovers an 
accordance between the Mosaic and scientific cosmogony. 

The account recocmizes in creation tT\-o great eras of three days each ; an L\of- 
ganic and an Organic. 

Each of these eras opens with the appearance of light : the first, light cosniii-a! ; 
the second, light from the sun for the special uses of the earth. 

Each era ends in a "day " of two great works ; the two shown to be distinct i y 
being severally pronounced ''good." On the tJiird "day,'" that closing tlie Itior- 
ganic era, tiiere was first the dividing of the land from the waters, and aftor\v:ir>l 
the creation of vegetation, or the institution of a kingdom of life; a work v.-idtlj 
diverse from all preceding it in the era. So on the sixth "'day," terminating i!'..- 
Organic era, there was first the creation of mammals, and then a second tar 
greater work, totally new in its grandest element, the creation of Man. 

The arrangement is, then, as follows : 

1. The Inorganic Era. 
1st Day. — Light, cosmical. 
. 2d Day. — The earth divided from the fluid around it, or individualized. 

oA T). 5 1- Outlining of the land and water. 

da uay. | 2. Creation of vegetation. 

2. The Organic Era. 

4th Day. — Light, from the sun. 

5th Day. — Creation of the lower orders of animals. 
' cfv. -n ( 1. Creation of mammals. 

bta vay.— -j ^ Creation of Mnn. 

In addition, the last day of each era included one work typical of the era, ati'l 
another related to it in essential points, but also prophetic of the future. Tcgi-t.-.- 
tion, while, for physical reasons, a part of the creation of the third day, was al.-o 
prophetic of the future Organic era, in which the progress of hfe was the gniii-: 
characteristic. The record thus accords with the fundamental principle in his*"ry 
that the characteristic of au age has its beginnings within the age precedine. >•• 
again, man, while like other mammals in structure, even to the homologies of ev-ry 
bone and muscle, was endowed with a spiritual nature, which looked forward '..' 
another era, that of spiritual existence. The seventh "day," the day of rest from 
the work of creation, is man's period of preparation for that new existence; and il 
is to promote this special end tliat. in strict paralleli.-^m, the Sabbath follows man •' 
six days of work. 

The work is adjusted with the skill of a practictil teacher to tla- 
objects of academic and collegiate instruction. It is perspicuous i- 
language, lucid in its arrangement, copiously furnished with illi:-- 
trations, and a brief sjTiopsis is added in the appendix, as abas!.-; U>i 
a shorter course of instruction. The work may be recomnicmkd 
both to the use of schools and for the libraries of our literary nu i: 
and ministers. 

The Imtitutes of Medicine. By TnoM.\s Painr, :>r.D., LL.D., Profcs'^or f-f 
Medicine and Materia Mcdica in the University of the City of New 'i "rk^- 
Seventh Edition. Svo.,pp.ll30. Xew York :" IlaiiJer ct Brotliers. I"''-- 

The issue of a seventh edition of a professional work evinces t" 
outsiders its standard character. The first publication of tlii^ '<"■■ 
ume was in 18-47 ; since which time it has received the highest >-:i'i' • 
tion from leading organs of the profession in America, aii<l has con- 
tributed to win for the author a cluster of European honor.-^. 

l^iy,].] Quarterly Book-Talle. 353 

Moilioine, of the regular and orthodox Medical Church, has its 
j.olcinics and its sects. Of the two great schools, (to say nothing 
if tl»e class of coraproraisers intermediate,) namely, the Chemical 
an«l the Vital, Dr. Paine is a leader if not the head of the latter. 
When the science of chemistry began to rise into a brilliant and 
wi.k'ly pcrvadmg system, Liebig and others proposed to bring 
materia jnedica as a subordinate department within its limits. 
They endeavored to exclude from medical science the consider- 
ation of all other forces than the chemical, and to account for the 
Tiiriclions and disorders of the system, and assign the rcm.edies,* 
jVuin the laws shown by the laboratory to regulate inorganic mat- 
ter. From the high character of these theorists, and the plausi- 
M!ity of their pretensions, they seemed for a while with a rush to 
cirry everything before them. Medical science was thus tending to 
■\ system of low theoretic materialism. Against this torrent Pro- 
tVv«or Paine has stood, firm as a column of adamant. lie took 
las stand upon the theory of Vitalism, and predicted, with a wis- 
dom claimed to be verified much sooner than he expected, that 
the '^invasion" of the territory of medicine by chemistry would 
' !i'.l in defeat. 

Dr. Paine's ground is, that there is a true Vital Principle, inac- 
cosiUe in itself to the reach of the senses, yet controlling with its 
; 'jwers the functions of the system. Therapeutics must look for its 
^■!nedics to the laws furnished by observation of the modes of vital 
action, ^his assumption shapes his whole system, and decides the 
tharacter and contents of his whole book of Institutes. First we 
'-1V0 Physiology, unfolding first the human structure and its com- 
}-'>ition, and then the nature and operation of the vital principle, 
I'le functions of life, both in themselves and as influenced by age, 
'••"iperamcnt, race, sex, etc. By this the Pathology is explained 
^'■"X the Therapeutics established. Therapeutically Ke belongs to 
tlie "heroic" school. Calomel and blood-letting form essential 
I irts. 

I lie medical theory of Dr. Paine leads him from the recognition 

'•f -i vital principle to a recognition of a soul in man, as tlie seat of 

^'">iight and source of voluntary action. A demonstration of the 

• "j1 constitutes an extended chapter of his work. Whatever may 

"^' 'he character of his medical practice, its theory is sj)intual and 

' •••istic. His style is living, and often belligerent. There is much 

*"''t is interesting in his Mork to the general thinker and the theo- 
' '~'i.ui. 

* 'r- Paiue is a firm ojiposer of modern geology. lie has a treatise 
'-•'l"djlished, in which he maintains that the earth is but a few 

354: Qv-arUrly Book-TabU. [April, 

thousand years old, and that the creative week of Moses consist iJ 
of literal days ; and so interpreted, the Mosaic narrative is tni.>. 
Whatever may he his peculiarities of belief, all parties must 
testimony to his learning, genius, individuality, and pure indepcn.i- 
ence of mind. 

History, Biography, and Tojyography. 

Memoirs of Mrs. Joanna Jldhn\e. By her Son, the Rev. Georgk W. 

Bethtke, D.D. With an Appendix, contaiuing Extracts from th- 
■ Writings of Mrs. ^etUune. 12mo., pp. 250. Kew York; Harper ic 

Brothers. 18G3. 
Probably no feminine names have been more thoroughly identifK-.l 
with the history of benevolent mstitntions in the city of Xew York 
than those of Mrs. Isabella Graham and her daughter, Mrs. Joanna 
Bethune. The character of the former, for piety and active benev- 
olence, has been held up for the emulation of all the young wom-n 
in this part of the religions world ; nor is it unknown on the otiu r 
side of the Atlantic. We have an excellent and widely circulate i 
biography of this lady, which was prepared by her daughter and 
son-in-law, ^Mrs. Joanna and Mr. Divie Bethune ; and upon th" 
announcement of this memoir we had hoped for a work of corre- 
sponding interest: a companion volume. In this, however, we av 
obliged to acknowledge our disappointment. The "writings" ar.' 
excellent, in spite of much sameness ; but the biography proju-r ;- 
far too brief True, there may be the best of reasons for this. Ti.- 
most actively benevolent people do not always leave an accurat-- 
record of their deeds ; and when, as in the present case, the subjret 
has outlived her colaborers by many years, we often find that 
her praise may be on every tongue, very few connected details -'t 
special interest can be secured. 

But further than this, whatever Dr. Bethuue's abilities may I::'.'-' 
been as a " poet, scholar, preacher, and orator," he seems to uh t'^ 
have failed, in the present case, to appreciate the very first prineir ■• 
necessary to a biographical work; namely, to concentrate the nnvi:i 
interest of the reader on the subject of the memoir. The vari":;- 
Bketches given of the friends and colaborers of Mrs. Bethune, tliou_'^ 
interesting in themselves, are in some rather aristocratic instann - 
quite irrelevant; while sketches of her nearest relatives, her Ir.i- 
band, sisters, and children, are mostly omitted. 

It is an interesting thought that while Mrs. Bethune lived to tb-- 
remarkably advanced age of ninety-t\yo years, her son liastem^^ 

away almost immediately after her in the prune of manhood, ai.' 

Bpent his last moments in erecting this monument to her uicnK-ry 


1^^3] Quarterly Booh -Table. 355 

Politics, Law, ayid General Morals. 

P,>litical Fallacies ; au Examination of tlie False Assumptions and Refuta- 
tion of the Sopliistical Reasonings which have brought on this Civil 
War. By George Ju>-kix, D.D., LL.D. 12mo., pp. 332. New York : 
Charles Scribner. 1868. 
Dr. .Iimkiu, whose is a noted name among the Old School Calvin- 
i^i<.luis for more than a dozen years been President of ^Vashington 
College, an institution in Lexington, Ya., which was first endowed 
Iv tlie illustrious man whose name it bears. During the discussions 
of the past years upon the slavery question, heJias maintained^the 
position of a mediator, and we may add, of a compromiser. The 
crivis found him in the full possession of a high social position and a 
wi.le popularity. In his firm stand against secession he was twice 
tained by an overwhelming majority of Virginia voters. But what 
iia voice and vote do against violence ? The brute force of a 
ilcspotic minority "precipitated" the state from the Union and the 
unionists from the state. Dr. Junkin's first experience was the 
. reotion of a secession banner npon the turrets of his college, in 
<'H'tiance of his authority ; his next, the refusal of his faculty to 
sustain his loyalty ; his third, a speedy exodus from tlie college 
and the state.' Such was the nature of this pro-slavery rebellion ; 
Midi the destiny of compromise and moderation in dealing with its 
!:»\rlcss and bloody despotism. It is the fierce movement of a black 
-iigarchy, asserting, hi defiance of law, reason, or liunian rights, 
!'■* unsparing supremacy. The strangest part of it all is, that with 
:iU his experience of its temper and dealings, and with all his per- 
ifl-tion of the anarchical character of the doctrines of secessionism, 
Ji'i'l with all the ability of his exposure, Dr. Juiikiu still fails to 
foiMj.rehend the enemy he and we are compelled to encounter. He 
»till prattles in some of his pages of the guilt of those who early 
'■^^v the character and designs of the oligarchy, and stood in firm 
»fsistance to its insolence. lie does not yet compreliend that but 
f'T tlic foresight and firmness of tlie class whom he denounces as 
N"»rthern fanatics, this nation would have bowed beneath the iron 
^^ay of that accursed junto, and our republic Avould have been 
'rrmsformed, first in spirit and then in form, into a despotism. But 
f-r those northern fimatics, Dr. Junkin would never have dared to 
J" -Id his position as a niidaie man. AVc can, however, indulge these 
I '^-jiidices and inconsistencies on his part. He lias attested the sin- 
<* rity of his opinions and the heroism of his metal by integrity in 
''•^' trying hour, and the solemn ordeal of suffering. 

'Hio main purpose of Dr. Junkin's volume, and one which he has 
^•fU performed, is the full exposure of the folly and fatality of the 

356 Quarterly Book-TalU. [April. 

doctrine of secession. This denationalizing heresy, which rohs us 
of a countr}- and gives \is an anarchy, -was the terrilde bequest of 
that darkest, deepest, and most iinscrupnlous of all American trai- 
tors — in comparison Avith whose blackness and grandeur Benedict 
Arnold is white and Aaron Burr an animalcule — the infamous John 
C. Calhoun. Placing himself at the head of the slavery plot, this 
dogma was forged by him in the interest of slavery. At that time 
Andrew Jackson saw his plan, predicted that slavery would be the 
next great basis of disunion, and lamented that he had not at the 
proper moment visited the traitor's neck with the traitor's doom. 
John C. Calhoun taught the southerner that phrase of sectional 
treason, '•'• JLj first allegiance is due my state^'' and Jeflerson l^avis 
and the rebellion are the consequence. Secessionism is national 
disintecrration reduced to a theorv. 

A ^Tanual of Information and Suggestions for Ohject Lessons, in a Course oi 
Elcmentan,- Instruction adapted to the Use of the School and Family 
Charts, and other Aids in Teaching. By ]Mat?cics "WrLLSO^-, Author oi 
"Willson's Historical Series," •' School and Family Readers," etc., etc. 
12mo., pp. 320. Xew York: Harper & Brothers. 1862. 

This treatise is based upon what the author calls the " development 
system;" a plan of drawing oitt the perceptive faculties of the pupil 
by commentin2f u})on and questioning him concerning various objects 
placed before him for his observation. A set of Charts of "Ob- 
jects" is advertised to accompany this work, of which, however, 
vre cannot speak from actual observation. J. 

Retieicers Jievieired. Brief Replies to various Criticisms and other Argu- 
mcnts. By C. F. Ilunsox. autlior of '• Debt and Grace as Related to "the 
Doctrine of a Future Life." ISnio., pp. 4-1. Xew York : G. ^V. Carleton. 

In this littlo primer, ]Mr. Hudson rtms the gauntlet of his reviewers 
with a bravery imsurpassed this side of Vicksburg. lie acknowl- 
edges a mistake or two of his own, but he finds the errors of his 
critics to be legion. So far as the ]\[ethodist Quarterly notices 
of him are concerned, we have no mistakes to acknowledge. One 
remark of ours, howc\or, in regard to the Universalist views of the 
Greek words alojrior and uidiog, had, we admit, no proper ai>iili'':^- 
tion to his theory. AVc also concede that he is correct in saying 
that the note in the con)mentary by the editor of this Quarterly. <"' 
Llark ix, 43, is not sustained by the Greek. As to oitr other j>oint~, 
all things are as they were before the genesis of this last creation 
of ]Mr. Hudson's trenius. 



JULY, 1863. 


The Life of John Good^oin, A.IVL, sometime Fellow of Queen's 
College, Cambridge, and Vicar of Saint Stephen's, Coleman-street, 
London. Comprising an Account of Lis Opinions and Writings, 
:iiul of the Controversies in wLich Le Avas engaged in defense of 
Religious Liberty and of General Kedemption. By Tuomas 
Jackson. London, 1822. 

P.'ifkmption Bedeemed ; wherein the Most Glorious Work of the 
Uederaption of the World by Jesus Christ is vindicated against 
the Encroachments of Later Times. By John Ggodtvdt, M.A. 
Imprinted from the Edition of 1C51. London, 1840. 

.In Rrjjositio7i of the Kinth CJiajMr of the Epistle to theBoinans. 
With the Banner of Justification Displayed. By John Good- 
^vi.v, M.A. To which is added, EipT^ro/ia^^a : The Agreement 
and Distance of Brethren. With a Prefoce by Thohas Jackson, 
Author of tlie Life of the Rev. Richard Watson, etc., etc. Lon- 
don, 1835. 

7V</ Works of John Ou:cn, D.D. Edited by TnofAS Russell, M.A. 
With Memoirs of his Life and, by Willia^t On^. 
Twontv-one volumes. London, 1820. 

>^nnorahilia of John Owen : Presbyterian Quarterly Rc\'iew, 
October, 1862. 

Mp.. Jackson's life of " John Goodwiu, the Arminian," is, very 

■^!'^'ularly, the first attempt to furnish the Christian public with 

4 fv..inplete account of a remarkable divine who, in days that 
Fourth Series, Vol. XV.— 23 

358 John Goodwin. [July, 

produced great men, was eminent among his brctln-en for learn- 
ing and genins, and for the ability and courage with which he 
maintained his principles against the most powerful and irri- 
tating opjx)sition. Those who have been conver?ant with his 
works, and therefore qualified to judge, have yielded him their 
heartiest admiration. Others, whose knowledge has been 
derived from the l)itter personalities and gross misrepresenta- 
tions found in the remains of his antagonists in many of tlic 
important controversies in which he was engaged, have greatly 
misunderstood his sentiments and conduct, lie was in the 
minority. The royalists disliked, and finally crushed him for his 
politics. The Presbyterians persecuted him for his advocacy of 
toleration. The Calvinists hated him because he turned Armin- 
ian. That an Arminian Parliamentarian should have been 
honored, or even correctly represented, then or in the subsequent. 
days of shameless and bigoted loyalty, ^vas not to be expected. 

John Goodwin was born in ISTorfolk, England, in the year 
1593 ; educated at Cambridge ; made Master of Arts, aud 
elected Fellow of Queen's College Xovember 10, 1617, in the 
twenty-four til year of his age. How long he remained at the 
University we are not informed. After his removal, he preached 
occasionally at Ivaynum, Lyim, Yarmouth, and ^Norwich. Jn 
1632, we find him at London ; and Dec. 18, 1633, he becamo, 
at the request of the parishioners, vicar of St. Stephen's, Cole- 
mau-street, in place of John Davenport, who fled from the per- 
secutions of Laud and became reno^\^led as minister at Kc^v 
Haven, Connecticut. Goodwin's sermons were praised n> 
uncommonly elegant and learned. His views of his ofilcn' 
forbade the cinpldyment of his strength in support of cereni'- 
nial observances, or in a display of himself. He sought to siih- 
due the judgments and consciences of men to the authority 
of Holy Scripture, and, in an age which tolerated clergy ' ■ 
immoral and scandalous lives, conscientiously applied hiin.-< !: 
to the duties of the Christian pastor. After a residence in L"Ji- 
don of fifteen yo:irs, he was spoken of as a man of "innoceii'-y 
and integrity in the cause of Christ, and great work and hd>' ' 
of love to Christ and his Churches;" and many of his pe<'j'''' 
regarded their attendance upon his ministry as one of the great- 
est blessings of tlieir lives. 

Goodwin's first appearance through the press was in the ve?^ 

lsr.3.3 John Goodwin. 359 

1030, in a recommendatory preface to "A Gleaning of God's 
jlurvest,'' a small volume of postlmmous sermons by Henry 
llanitden, a profound Puritan theologian and " edifying" Lon- 
don minister. Ilis first publication as author ■\vas in 1640, in a 
Tohune of anniversary sermons entitled " The Saints' Interest in 
(i,.«l,-' and commemorative of tlie discovery of the Gunpowder 
ri'>t. It is dedicated to his "loving parishioners and dear 
iViciids, tiie inliabitants of St. Stephen's, Colcman-strect." The 
next y^r he published two similar volumes, " God a Good Mas- 
ter and Protector," and " The Peturn of Mercies, or the Saints' 
Advantage by Losses;" the first dedicated to Mrs. Elizabeth 
Hampden, mother of the celebrated John Hampden, and the 
HX'ond to Lady Clark, of Heading. The addresses show him 
to liave had the high regard of these distinguished ladies, and 
•it have been indebted to them for "many expressions of love." 
The character of these volumes, the tone of devotion pervad- 
ing them, their originality and depth of thought, and their 
nnxlest, unassuming style, indicate the learned, conscientious, 
'lithfiil pastor. Of quiet and scholarly habits, absorbed in his 
'v.'ks, ambitious to dwell in the loving hearts of his peopl-e 
?^thor than to win the public eye, and longing most of all to 
JuiJill his ministry with fidelity, he liad allowed more thanforty- 
*'>e years of his life to pass before he committed a line to the 
I'VfS. "We doubtless see him here in his true native character, 
'** is tiie exact opposite to that attributed to him by his enemies 
-» after years. His full, clear eye looked out from under an 
^-•ching brow and high, broad forehead. Tlie pleasant face, the 
- ^ifly-formed nose, and peculiar curve of the mouth, plainly seen 
■' -'VHtli the short mustache, tell us of an amiable temper, a 
••'-Art of love, and a soul at peace ; while the slight compressure 

• ^lic lips and the firmly poised head evidently belong to one 
*'io for his conscience and the truth can dare all dano-ers, do all 

t J O ' 

'^^-'\^, and endure all suflerinfrs. 

^'ic '''' Imputatio Fidci ; or, A Treatise of Justification," was 

• -^'^'i^hed iu 1042, and is one of his most valuable works. He 

*'i lor several years been the subject of considerable animosity 

^-■I'iarnor on the part of some of his Puritan brethren, because 

• ''!» views of imputation ; and in 1C38 both parlies were sum- 
^ •nod before their Diocesan, and commanded to desist from all 

^•'■^re pulpit discussion of the points at issue. Laud's report to 

360 John Goodioin. [July, 

the king provokes a smile. He says, " In the diocese and city 
of London there- was like to some distraction, both among the 
ministers and the people, occasioned at first by some over-nice 
curiosities preached by one Mr. Goodwin, vicar of St. Ste- 
phen's, Coleman-street, concerning the imputation of Christ's 
righteousness in the justification of a sinner. But the difler- 
ences arising about it were timely prevented by convention of 
the parties dissenting. And so, God be thanlred, that business 
is at peace," Goodwin had, however, the full confideujge and 
love of his people, and the assm-ance of dehvering some from 
the snares of Antinomianism. 

The controvej^y continued, nevertheless ; and when the Long 
Parliament relieved the press of its b^^rdensome restriction^, 
Goodwin pnbli^licd the Treatise of Justification, taking up tlie 
whole subject with an accuracy and depth of thought perhaps 
never sui-p<i5sed. LLe states the question thus : 

Whether the faith of him that truly believes in Christ, or thf 
righteousness of ChrUt^ (that is, the obedience which Christ per- 
formed to the moral law, consisting partly of the righteous di.-^|)0- 
sitions of his soul, partly of those several acts wherein he obeyed,) 
he, in the letter iind propriety of it, that which God impntes to a 
believer for rif/hfcous7icss, in his justitication ? so that he tliu: 
believes 'is not righteous only by 'account, or by God's graciou=< 
reputing and accoptiug of him for such ; but as rigidly, literally, 
and peremptorily righteous— constituted as perfectly, as completely, 
as legally righteous as Christ himself, no dilference at all between 
them qnocul verltatcm, but only quoad tnoelum, both righteous with 
the selfsame riglUeousncss, only the justiiied wears it as put upon 
him by another, the justifiev as put upon him by himself 

His position^ have Tiever been refuted in any of the variou.^ 
attempts at reply, and it has generally been deemed wise, hy 
the advocates of imputation, to give the book no noticQ. ^i''- 
Wesley published an abridgment in 1703, with this commemUi- 
tion : " I believed I could not either draw up or defend [the rcal 
scripture doctrine] better than I found it done to my hands by 
one who, at the time he wrote this book, was a fii-m and zealoa-v 

These years of Goodwin's theological study and quiet mini-try 
were years of confusion and disorder in botli Church and State 
In an unfortunate hour, Laud had been exalted to the see <■'' 
Canterbury. He sought the exaltation of the king at the expen '■ 
of the people, and of the priesthood at the ex|)ense of the kiurl- 

18(53.] John Goodioin. 361 

\l\f. fondness of parade, liis introduction of new religions cere- 
monies, his persistence in pictures, images, and the crucifix, his 
reverence for ancient and abolished customs, his persecution of 
tlie clergy who neglected his innovations, alarmed the Puritans 
and the moderate churchmen, and aided in preparing them for 
the fearful days to come. 

The Puritans' intense loathing of Popery made them hate the 
multiplying rites and, ceremonies which betrayed an apostasy in 
the Churcli, and the jiersecuting spirit of its dignitaries. They 
W'hcldwith dismay the increasing encroachments upon popular 
ri^'hts. The strictly religious Puritans were a nucleus around 
vhich gathered all classes who, dilFering On many points, agreed 
in opposition to the established modes of worship and the arbi- 
triiry measures'of the hierarchy, composing a body that gained 
firength from every disclosure of a purpose to establish abso- 
lutism in Church or State. 

Charles liad brought to the throne the belief of the divine 
ripjht of kings, of the dependence of parliamentary privileges 
upon royal favor, of the duty of implicit obedience by the sub- 
j'.'Ct, and consequently, of his right to an absolute authority. His 
'-^t and second parliaments were dissolved within the year, for 
attempting a redress of grievances and an investigation into the 
wiiduct of ministers. He assented to the Petition of Eight, and 
within a month imprisoned and fined leading members of the 
Huur^e of Commons. Then for eleven years he ruled without a 
[■arliament, constantly violated the Petition of Eight, raised 
Money in the most irregular and arbitrary manner, enlarged the 
I<twers of the Star Chamber and High Commission, subjected 
the civil and ecclesiastical courts to his will, and made his gov- 
t'nimentan absolute despotism, lacking only a standing army to 
^vnder the overthrow of English liberties perpetual. He pro- 
^■<'lcc'd the turbulent and jealous Scots to an insurrection, by 
inadly imposing a litm-gy upon them. The convocation, con- 
l;iiuing its session after his angry dissolution of the fourth par- 
'"»nent, framed a canon requiring all schoolmasters, law'yei'S, 
I'hvticians, and clergy to declare upon oath that they would 
«'J!:ilterably maintain the doctrines and government of the 
^ -Hirch by archbishops, bishops, deans, chapters, ct cetera. 
-''<--nibei-s of the House of Commons were imprisoned for rcfus- 
'•^o to answer for their conduct in parliament; and then, to 

362 John Goodwin. [Julv, 

increase the confusion, the army was defeated in its first skirm- 
ish upon the Scottish border. 

A necessity as imperious as his o-wn \dll was upon Charles to 
face the Commons once more. The Long Parliament met in 
Kovember, 1640. It entered at once, and with an almost 
nnanimous agreement, upon its great measures of reform. 
Every important act was favored by men who were afterwar<l 
prominent cavaliers. Parties appeared only when grievance.^ 
had been redressed and the liberties of the people surrounded 
by new securities : the Conservatives then thinking that true 
wisdom required the guarding, with equal jealousy, of these 
liberties and the rightful prerogatives of the throne ; while tlic 
Roundlieads, on the other hand, believed that he who had defied 
all law would not hesitate to trample upon the recent statutes, 
and that the nation's only safety lay in the curtailing of his 
power. Scrupulous good i\iith on the part of Charles would 
have soon placed his friends in the majority ; but of this he was 
utterly incapable. His attempt to arrest Hampden, Pym, and 
three others of the Commons, demonstrated the principles of ILl- 
opposition, alienated his adherents, and set the nation on fire. 
One prerogative after another was surrendered, until he wa^ 
asked to resign the supreme military authority, which could n^i 
be safely left in his hands with an army raised for the subjuga- 
tion of Ireland, but ready to be employed at his command f r 
the overthrow of tlie constitution and the laws. He left Lou- 
don; and in August, 1642, the M-ar commenced. 

The great body of the Puritan ministers were conscientiously 
active in behalf of the parliament. Men of learning and piety 
had been silenced and imprisoned, and ignorant and vicious mc:i 
promoted to high positions in the Church. The High Commis- 
sion and ilishups' Courts were more concerned to suppress fiist- 
ing and praying than swearing and drunkenness. Many h:i i 
been punished fur omitting to read publicly the Book of Spor:- 
and Dancing on the Lord's day. Altars, pictures, images, bow- 
ing at the name of Jesus, and the et cetera oath, created deep 
fears for Protestantism itself. By all their regard for religion 
and the liberty of the subject, they preferred the reproach "i 
rebellion to a connection with that party which seemed regard 
less of either. Goodwin was among the foremost of those nuh''^' 
men. With masterly eloquence lie advocated the cause of tho 

liC3.J John Goodwin. 363 

pjirliament in liis pulpit ; aud while John Milton was the first 
man to employ the press in its behalf, John Goodwin is to be 
honored as the first clergyman who nsed that powerful instru- 
ment to rouse the people, and show the necessity of the war 
to save the nation from a perpetual civil and religious slavery. 
His first political controversy was in behalf of popular liberty. 

So far was the parliament at its commencement from any 
intention to overthrow the Established Church, that the House 
of Commons allowed none to hold a seat who would not receive 
the communion after its forms. Lenthal, the speaker, Pym, Sir 
Harry Vane, the Earl of Essex, the parliamentary general, the 
Earls of Northumberland and 'S\^arwick, who seized the navy, 
Sir John Hotham, who shut the gates of Hull against the king, 
and most of the leaders in the parliament, were Episcopalians. 
l)ut when the aid of the Scots became desirable, Episcopacy 
was abolished aud the Covenant adopted, though nearly four 
years elapsed before the Presbyterian government was estab- 
lished by law. Meanwhile, the friends of Presbytery claimed 
for it a divine right, and a full ecclesiastical supremacy. 

The true principles of religious freedom had never been under- . 
ftood. The fundamental proposition of both Protestants and 
Catholics was, that the truth was to be protected and error pur- 
fued and punished; while each party assumed to decide what 
\va-? truth and what error. Both alike failed to comprehend 
tliat individual accountability to God required the liberty of 
tlie individual to believe and worship in conformity with the 
tlceisions of his own judgment and conscience. Protestants, 
contending for the right of private judgment, failed to see that 
v.hat conscience claimed must be granted to conscience in 
return. The Presbyterians, who had demanded toleration for 
tlicmselves, now expecting a day of power, were as hostile 
t'> religious liberty as Laud had ever been. "A toleration," 
f-aid Edwards, "is the grand design of the devil." Prjmne 
Wrote " A Full Yindication of Christian Kings' and Magis- 
trates' Authority under the Gospel, to Punish Idolatry, 
'Apostasy, Heresy, Blasphemy, and Obstinate Schism, with 
t-'^-qioreal, and, in some cases, witli Capital Punishment." 
"i-hc Scottish commissioners protested against a toleration "as 
^iat which is expressly contrary to the AVord of God . . . and 
^ill unavoidably subvert all order and govermnent." The 

864 John, Goodwin. fJ^J, 

ministers of London, in a letter to the Westminster AssemLly, 
cried out in great anguish of spirit, " We detest and ahhor the 
much-endeavored toleration. Our bowels, our bowels are stirred 
\nthin us, and we could even drown ourselves in tears." 

As a moderate Episcopalian, Goodwin had always loathed the 
arbitrariness of high prelacy, and he now equally abhorred tlic 
intolerant claims of high presbytDry. He believed, with MiUon, 

New Presbyter is but Old Priest -writ large. 
As against the latter in its struggle for civil and ecclesiastical 
ascendancy, he adopted the principles of the Independents, 
thinking them more favorable to growth in holiness and liberty 
of conscience. He was the first man to set the true principles 
of religious liberty fairly and fully before British Christians, and 
boldly risked property, reputation, and life' in an open issue 
with the party in power. Unlike many who pleaded for tole- 
ration for all who held " the fundamental doctrines of Christi- 
anity," he claimed that all interference of magistrates in purely 
religious matters was antichristian and enormously tyrannical. 
His first publication in the controversy was a reply to Dr, Adai;i 
Stewart, in 1014, wherein he clearly defines his position. "'Tlu' 
gi-and pillar of this coercive power in magistrates is this angry 
argument: 'What, would you have all religions, sects, and 
schisms tolerated in Christian Churches? Should Jews, Turk-, 
and Papists be suffered in their religions, what confusion nin-t 
this needs breed in Church and State!' If by a tolerati.'U 
the argument means a non-suppression of such religions, seet-. 
aud schisms, by fining, imprisoning, disfranchising, bani-K- 
ment, death, or the like, my answer is, that they ought to !••- 
tolerated : only upon this supposition, that the professors oJ 
them be otherwise peaceable in the state, and every way subject 
to the laws and lawful power of the magistrate," He believed 
that doctrinal errors are not to be approved or connived at a^ cJ 
no importance, but overcome by sober argument; that obstinato 
heresy is a proper subject of ecclesiastical censure or exclusion : 
and that the corruption of a whole Church demands adnioniti":i^ 
from neighboring Churches, and, if persisted in, renunciation cJ 
fellowship ; but that every man has the fullest right to his u^yn 
religious opinions and worship, without any interference ol ti.o 
tiNnl authority: ho being meanwhile a peaceable and orderly 

1SC3.3 John Goodwin. 365 

citizen. From these views he never swerved, and in their 
advocacy never faltered. 

Tlie suppression of the Independents by parliamentary enact- 
ment being loudly demanded, he published his "Fighting 
a«::iinst God ;" insisting upon the right of private judgment, 
and arguing against all interference of the civil power in affairs 
of conscience. This pamphlet aroused the ire of the notorious 
Prynne. He was a barrister, well read in law and divinity, and 
a bigoted Presbyterian. By his WTitings on episcopacy and 
Aruiinianism he had incurred the enmity of Laud. For his 
Jlistrio-Mastix, the Star Chamber had punished him by a fine 
of five thousand pounds, expulsion from Oxford and Lincoln's 
Lm, degradation from his profession, standing twice in the 
liillory with the loss of an ear at each time, the burning of his 
book by the hangman, and imprisonment for life. Because of 
a scurrilous publication against Laud, lie was again fined the 
e^me amount, branded on the cheeks with the letters S L for a 
Seditious Libeler, and lost tlie stumps of his ears. He was 
released by the Long Parliament, but oppression had taught 
liiin neither wisdom nor toleration. With a fanatical hostility 
to any religious liberty, this Presbyterian martyr attempted a 
T'-futation of Goodwin's arguments ; and, as if conscious of fail- 
ure, violently attacked his personal character, with the design 
of exposing him to a state prosecution. Goodwin promptly met 
the champion, defending his character, recounting his services 
to the parliament, and contending with fresh argument for 
unrestricted toleration. Pepcated invocations of the wrath of 
t:ie government upon his head could not hush his convictions 
«^'i" silence his pen. The revengeful blow M'as not long delayed. 
vl<xidwin, following the example of several of his brethren, had 
exercised some discrimination in administering the sacraments 
^'^ baptism and the supper. For this he was summoned before 
I'ic Committee for Plundered Ministers — or, as the royalists 
formed it, ior plundering ministers — whose duty was to inquire 
auer all malignant or scandalous clergymen, and to remove 
'it'm from their livings. Their expulsion of Hales of Eton, and 
»» i»lton, editor of the London Polyglot, from their preferments, 
*liuj;trate the terrible havoc they made in the Church. This 
^■^'inniittee subjected him to repeated and severe examinations, 
v/ae of its members ventured to plead in his behalf his zeal and 

366 John Goodvnn. tJuly, 

labor in the cause of tlie parliament. Forty-five of liis parish- 
ioners, well kno-^Ti for pietv and attachment to the government, 
attested his faithfulness in his ofiice and prayed for his continu- 
ance as their pastor. Several months of undisturbed possession 
of his vicarage then ensued, when Prynne, with a sneer of tri- 
umph, informed him that his expulsion was intended, becau.-e 
of his advocacy of the rights of conscience. Prynne was cor- 
rect ; and nothing could avail to secure Goodwin's continuance 
in his living. True, no malignancy or scandal could be proved 
against him. But he had been charged vjith Arminianism ! 
He certainly had overwhelmed the Calvinistic doctrine of impu- 
tation with confusion ; he had opposed the divine right of Pres- 
bytery ; and, more than all, he had taught that magistrates have 
no legitimate authority to use coercion in matters of conscience. 
He was a man of deep learning, acute logical powers, invinciblo 
courage, and extraordinary talents. The interests of those in 
power demanded that he should be crushed ; and, without an 
assigned reason, he was ejected in May, 1645, with a "snfe and 
seven children dependent upon him, and a part of his salary 
already due fraudulently withheld. 

In addition to his labors at St. Stephen's, Good^vin had talcen 
tlie charge of a small Independent Chm'ch, which now claimcJ 
his continued service as its pastor. He at once rented sonic 
buildings in Coleman-street, and after some alteration, opened 
tliem for public worship. Two of his children were soon taken 
from him by a prevalent epidemic. Following this came a most 
bitter assault upon his character in the " Gangrcena" of Thoni;L- 
Edwards, sparing no words or pains to destroy his name and 
influence, and, reckless of opening the deep woipds in his licart, 
fiendishly representing his bereavement as a divine judgment 
npon him for " making his house a meeting for sectaries," Thi--^ 
infamous publication was filled with all the scandal and idk' 
tales that a ransacking of the kingdom could gather, and avowed 
the unprincipled design of covering with odium all dissenters 
from the Presbyterian policy, and of effecting their supprc>sion. 
Goodwin correctly styled it " an ulcerous treatise." When tli.' 
Westminster Assembly allowed itself to be pushed to the C'-»n- 
elusion that Presbyterian uniformity should be established and 
all other sects 'suppressed by parliamentary authority, Goodwin 
denounced the project as not " a reformation according to il'^' 

1SG3J John Goodwin. * 367 

word of God," and therefore not sucli a reformation as the 
A.-i.-embly v.-as called to aid in efiecting in the national Church, 
lie next i?sued " Some Modest and Hiunblc Queries " respecting 
tlic " Ordinance for the Punishing of Heresies and Blasphemies," 
in v.liicli death without benefit of clergy is made the doom of 
ir\(.'orrigible deists, Socinians, etc. ; and all assertors of such errors 
a^; natm'al free-vrill, or the unlawfulness of infant baptism, who 
will not publicly recant their heresies, are to be imprisoned. He 
inquires if it is Christian to maintain that religion by putting 
others to death, which ought to be defended by, dying ourselves 
for it ; if the heathen in ancient, and the papacy in modern times 
did not maintain their religion by the very methods proposed 
for maintaining the religion of Christ ; if any ordinary judge of 
a?.size, of little or no acquaintance with abstruse points in the- 
ology, is, in such questions, a competent judge of men who have 
made them the study of their lives ; if twelve ordinary jurymen 
are qualified " to pass upon the life or liberty of a studious, 
learned, and conscientious man, in cases where the ablest pro- 
fessors of divinity are not able, with any competent satisfaction 
to the scrupulous, many times to determine." The thirty-eight 
" queries " produced a fearful explosion. Edwards poured out 
his fury, and pronounced it unlawful for Christians to receive 
i^ach an arch-heretic into their houses. It was argued that Chris- 
tiauity was insecm-e unless protected by penal statutes. A num- 
ber of ministers and laymen presented an urgent petition to 
parliament, asking that Goodwin's reply might be burned by 
tlie common hangman and its author prosecuted. 

When Cromwell put a restraint upon the parliament, Good- 
win very natm-ally justified it, in a publication entitled "Eight 
Jt'id Might Well Met." He defended the sentence of the High 
('ourt of Justice against Cha^rles, in " The Obstructors of Jus- 
tice," published three months after the king's execution. The 
*>'t'y to these, and indeed to all his political writings, is to be 
^*>und in his attachment to civil and religious liberty. There- 
J'Tc he defended the parliament at the commencement of the 
^^ar, and opposed its intolerance when it fell under Presbyterian, 
^"'nitrol. He justified the movements of Cromwell when hberty 
■^^as endangered by the parliament's proposed compromise with 
^•'C king, and condemned the counseb by which he in turn 
imperiled it. Though no democrat, he defended the cause of 

368 *^ohn Goodwin. [July, 

just and equal liberty, firmly secured by law, against king, par- 
liament, and protector. 

Early in 16^4, the year of his first publications on toleration, 
the last of a series of sermons in delense of the Calvinistic doc- 
trines advanced the sentiment that " natural men may do things 
^vhereunto God hath, by way of promise, annexed grace and 
acceptation." For this " Arminian position" he was most 
virulently assailed in a pamphlet entitled " A Yindication ol 
Free Grace," and while his case was yet pending before the 
Committee for Plundered Ministers. "A most dangerous 
en-or !"'he says in reply, " and of as sad consequence • as that 
which was charged upon Paul, when accused for teaching that 
they w.ere no gods which were made with hands. For doubtless 
men are natural before they are spiritual ; and spiritual they can- 
not be made but bv believing ; and to believing, we all confe^.^, 
God hath promised grace and acceptation." This insignificant 
pamphlet led him into a new and more thorough investigation 
of his entire theological system. The orthodoxy of his times 
was pure, hard Cah^inism. He had been educated in its princi- 
ples, and had honestly maintained them in his ministry. His 
high estimation of many of its advocates, the disgust lie felt^at 
the character of many of its chief opponents, together with ' a 
raw and ill-di-ested conceit that there was no better or less 
offensive bread^tb be had from any hand whatsoever," combined 
to render him contented in his views ; " but the truth is," he 
tells us, " I found it ever and anon gravelisli in my mouth, and 
corroding and fretting in my bowels." It is not strange that 
a man of Ins mental characteristics should have felt dissatisiac- 
tion with that arbitrary and revolting system which even its 
great master confessed an inability to reconcile with the divine 
equity and goodness, and whic4i, whether modified by tiie 
removal of some of its harsh and severe features, or beautilK-a 
by the adornments of rhetoric, as lat6r disciples have tried to 
mend it, in every one of its varying forms and phases binds tlic 
human will by a cast-iron fatalism, and holds man to a stcin 
responsibility for his acts, with no power to do otherwise than 

2& he does. • • 

The circumstances attending his adoption of the Arminiaii 
doctrines show that the step was taken upon deep and hone 
conviction He had seen the Dutch Arminians condemned a- 

1SC3.] John Goodwin. 369 

heretics by the orthodox Synod of Dort, and their clergy ban- 
i.^hi'd and put to death. English Arminianisni had been mostly 
idoiitilied \\'ith ecclesiastical corruption and tyranny, and a possi- 
ble design of the re-establishment of popery. Had the change 
(X'curred when Laud was in power, he might have been rewarded 
Nvitli high preferment ; but at this time the divines who held these 
tciiets were chiefly loyalists, driven from their pulpits, and bitterly 
j>urnucd as malignants. As a parliamentarian, he was hated by 
the Arminians ; as an Ai-rainian, he would be loathed by the 
Calviuists. He had everything to lose by the change; he had 
nothing to gain but the truth. For the truth's sake he could at 
the age of fifty years endure the suspicions, reproaches, humili- 
ations, and contentions that, awaited him. Om- admiration is 
insnppressible at the lofty manliness which would bravo the 
certain storm of defamation and calumny, the loss of reputation 
and influence, and the mortification of declaring a change in his 
theological faith. . 

As a duty incumbent upon their pastor, he promptly gave his 
new views to his people. Their first announcement through the 
})re53 was in 164S, in " The Divine Authority of the Scriptures 
Asserted ;" a work characterized as the most complete defense 
of the sacred volume that had ever appeared in the English 
liuiguage, and repeatedly recommended by Baxter as aflbrdinga 
thorough knowledge of the foundation of the Christian religion. 
Violent denunciation and the loss of personal friends were a 
portion of his compensation for this production. IS'umerous 
Ji^tagonists assailed him. The London clergy, at one of their 
^veekly regency meetings at Sion College, seeing their efiForts 
'•-•r a parliamentary, suppression of the sectaries unavailuig, 
resolved to unite in "A Testimony against the Errors, Heresies, 
and Blasphemies of these Times, and the Toleration of them : 
'Subscribed by the Ministers of Christ within the Province of 
I^.>ndou." Goodwin, especially, is most abusively treated. They 
iicouse him of holding man's natural power to do good, taking 
^^ notice of his explicit declaration of the absolute necessity of 
<-ivinc aid. They arraign him for denying the authority of the 
''^■riptures, totally ignoring his arguments for that authority. 
^t is true that he did not follow most Protestants of that day, 
^'"ho, in avoiding the error of the Catholics respecting the 
autJiority of the Yulgate, went to the other extreme of a belief 

370 John Goodwin. fJ^y, 

in the iinmaculateness of the original text, and its pro%ndential 
preservation from errors at the hands of transcribers or printers. 
Even the learned Dr. Owen, in his attack on Walton's Polyglot, 
represented the assertion that the Scriptures had suffered in 
transmission as had other ancient books, as bordering on athe- 
ism. But while Goodwin did not believe the Hebrew ajid 
Greek texts then in use to be exact and perfect copies of the 
originals written as "moved by the Holy Ghost,-' he did believe 
and declare that not only they but the received translations sot 
forth, wdth sufficient accuracy, the mind of God as to all things 
necessary to be known for Christian deportment or eternal sal- 
vation. These fifty -two grave divines, sitting in solemn con- 
clave at Sion College and arrogantly styling themselves "T/i<; 
ministers of Christ," knew that no minister of his times had 
more strenuously and constantly defended in the pulpit the 
authority of Holy Scripture, and that he had led many skeptics 
to a reverence for its teachings ; they had in their hands a copy 
of his lately-published volume on the subject ; and yet, assuming 
the authority of pronouncing condemnation without confutation, 
they deliberately traduce as a heretic and blasphemer a man 
in every respect their equal, and without allowing him to speak 
for himself. Believing that the " Testimony " was given prin- 
cipally for his sake, as a large portion of it was occupied "\vith 
his " errors and heresies," Goodwin felt called upon to reply. 
He issued Ids " Sion College Yisited," a temperate but manly 
vindication of himself. " The ministers " debated the propriety 
of an answer to it, but decided the question in the negative. 

If he could not be put down by a public prosecution or by 
argument, he might, as one of the worst heretics of the age, he 
crushed by popular clamor. His ruin was certain, if malice 
and calumny could effect it. Knowing his powers, he consented 
to meet his adversaries in public debate, hoping that the truth 
of a General Eedemption would thus reach many to whom he 
had no access through the pulpit or press. In the third and la.-t 
of these discussions he was not allowed to answer a chai-gc ol 
maintaining free will in opposition to free grace ; and thereiure, 
upon the publication of the debates as taken by a stenograplier, 
he issued "The Remedy of Unreasonableness." He therein 
ascribes all good in men to grace, but insists that if men act 
necessarily by means of the grace given them they act phy8- 


15 (13 J John Goodwin, 371 

icnlly, or as mere natural agents, and perform mere natural 
notions, which, by the standing law of God's remunerative 
Knunlj, ai-e not rewardable. 

It is pleasant to know that at about this point in his history 
(Joodwin was restored to St. Stephen's, now vacant by the 
r\]nilsion of his successor, who was a ^^o]ent Presbyterian, and 
had incurred the displeasure of the government. His friends 
urgently asked for his return to his old benefice, and were suc- 
(.-osy^fal only after great difficulty. The revenues were, however, 
l.irgely alienated, and he estimated his loss by his ejection at a 
thousand pounds. 

The next work from his pen was the " Redemption Eedeem-ed," 
wliich beare the date of 1G51. Many noble names are in the 
hst of those who had, previous to this time, advocated some of 
ilie Armmian doctrines ; but this was the first English attempt 
to present them as a system. As Calvinism was more than ever 
f trongly intrenched in the popular mind, he knew that this work 
would bring fresh obloquy upon his head. Disregarding per- 
gonal consequences, ho thought only of the advantage of pub- 
lishing the truth as he had received it, and made the most 
formidable attack upon the Genevan system that the British 
1 rcss had ever sent forth. He sought to present the doctrine 
'■f Redemption as taught in the Scriptures and lield in the early 
Cliurch, redeemed from the bondage imposed upon it by Calvin- 
istic theoloEcians. He shows himself alike at home in the meta- 
I'hysical argument, the scriptural exposition, and the teachings 
of ancient and modern divines. "We cannot too deeply regret 
that a second part of the work was never completed, although 
''•ic exposition of the ninth of Komans, which he included in his 
{•Ian, was published separately. Had the Redemption Redeemed